They All Lived Story 68: Triskelion
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Spring '86 to Summer of '87 Can Edward and Alphonse help save a Kartosian Alchemical relic from utter destruction? Adventure, teenage drama in the Fischer house, more great-grandchildren than you could ever need, and stray kittens await the Elrics in an eventful year-in-the-life.
1. Part 1 - Spring-Summer '86

**April 6** **th** **, 1986**

Charlie Fischer wasn't going to the spring dance. Without Shelby what was the point? He had relayed verbally through Marlena that Shelby should go. He would stay away so her father wouldn't object. She liked dancing, and parties. The only reason he had ever gone was because of her anyway, so he would stay out of it, and she could go with her friends.

He tried not to think about her dancing with other boys.

Instead, he spent the day with Gill in Gill's garage, working on their newest restoration project, a '65 Flamestar that, when they got it done, would be painted bright red. At the moment though, she was just a beautiful old pile of rust and oil, and Charlie was perfectly happy to lose himself in the focused task of putting her back together. Gill's dad was planning to sell her when they were done, and Charlie was hoping he find a way to afford her.

"You'd better be clean before we leave in an hour, Gill."

Charlie almost bumped his head on the open car hood above him at the sound of a female voice. It was Marlena of course, but that didn't stop him from turning around.  
His tongue caught in his throat.

Marlena and Shelby were both standing in the entrance of the garage, dressed for the dance. Marlena's dress was a soft burgundy-rose. Shelby's was a shimmery pale silver-blue. Her curly hair was pulled up in a twist on the back of her head.

"I'm about to go shower now," Gill assured his girlfriend with a laugh.

Charlie was still looking at Shelby. "Hey."

She smiled nervously. "Hi."

He was only peripherally aware of Gill and Marlena vanishing indoors, leaving him alone with Shelby for the first time in weeks, the air between them crackling with energy.  
Charlie took off the grease-smeared gloves on his hands. "You're gorgeous, Shels…"

"Thanks." She blushed prettily. "I'm not sure why I'm going, without you. It's just better than sitting at home."

Charlie unhooked the overalls he had on over his regular clothes and the grimy fabric dropped to the ground, leaving him mostly clean. He took off the gloves and set them aside. Then, he reached out tentatively, afraid she might pull away, but she didn't as he gently took her hand. "Is your old man still giving you a hard time?"

Tears glimmered in the corners of her eyes. "My parents have never been upset with me like this before. I'm still surprised Daddy didn't go through with his threat to put me in private school." She fell against him, hugged him tightly, and his arms closed around her without a thought. "It almost would have been easier if I _had_ gotten pregnant."  
That admission startled him. "What do you mean?" he looked down at her. It made no sense.

"If I had… he probably wouldn't have chased you off. Daddy's very old fashioned that way. He straight up told me he'd have put a gun to your head and _made_ you marry me if I was pregnant, but that this was easier because he could chase you off. It's like we're being punished for trying not to be careless…for coming forward with the truth…"

"You really think your father would have let us stay together if I'd knocked you up?" It was the strangest thing Charlie had ever heard…and yet there was some bizarre logic to it. Twisted logic… but given his father's stories of small-town Amestris, there was some sense to it. It made him angry.

Shelby nodded. "Stupid isn't it?"

"Yeah… but it means things can't get worse…right?" Charlie wasn't sure what he was thinking… it was kind of crazy. "You know, if we're careful not to get caught, we can still be together. You're not grounded anymore. I'm not grounded anymore. Summer's coming. As long as we act like we're following orders anywhere they might see us, we've got the freedom now to find ways to see each other."

"I'd like that," Shelby agreed, much to his relief. "I don't want my parents to be mad at me anymore, but I don't think anything I do is going to fix that. It's not like they'd let me date anyone else anyway, not after this…and I don't want anyone else. Just you."

His heart swelled. "Good, because you're the only women I want. We'll make this work, somehow."

 **April 8** **th** **, 1986**

 _The first time I looked into my daughter's face, the world finally started to make sense. I had always thought I understood how people worked; what motivated them to fight on one side or another; what drove their life choices. I had tried the forbidden to bring back my mother. I had done everything in my power to restore my little brother. I had defied the laws of the world, and learned to use them. I thought I understood loyalty, and family, and love. Then I looked into my daughter's face, and I realized I'd had no idea until that moment._

"If I see one more of these things I'm going to go crazy!" Winry's voice echoed up to Ed's open office door from two floors below, ripping through the ribbon of thought.

Sitting back from his typewriter, Ed turned his chair and stood. "Mice again?" he called back as he stepped out into the open hallway and leaned over the railing.

"Two of them!" Winry called back, stepping out of the kitchen and looking up in his direction. Ed had to put all of his will into not laughing at her mouse-war get-up. She was wearing full-arm gloves and carrying one of her larger wrenches. Her long hair was pulled back with one of her favorite blue bandanas. "Bold as you please, right in the middle of the cracker boxes!"

"We can put out more traps," Ed suggested. He had already tried finding—and transmuting shut—every small hole and crevice in the house foundation, the basement, and the kitchen cabinets.

"They're too smart for that," Winry objected. "I found two more of them with the bait gone." The traps were humane boxes and Ed couldn't figure out how the mice were getting in, and out again, .As useful as Mal had been good at guarding against larger animals in the garden, the large, elderly white dog didn't care about mice. He was twelve, which was pretty ancient for a dog of his size, and all he did these days was lay in the warmest spots he could find, and follow Ed on his shorter, more leisurely walks.

"I'll see what else they sell in town," Ed suggested, knowing that until the mice were driven out, Winry would drive them both nuts trying to keep them out of the food. It was spring, and it was the rainy season. Of course the house had mice, though this year they seemed to be much worse than in previous springs.

Winry sighed and turned back towards the kitchen. "We could always get a cat."

"Hah!" Ed snorted. A cat? That'd be the day.

 **April 14** **th** **, 1986**

Urey couldn't imagine a better way to spend a Sunday morning than lazing about in bed, listening to the rain splatter gently against the windows, muting the light and enclosing the little house as if it were its own little world. Beside him were the two most precious things in his life. Raina slept soundly, her hair spread all over her pillow in a tousled mess he found absolutely endearing. She had put her grading away early last night—almost as soon as Yurian was in bed—so they could enjoy the evening together.

Between them now, sprawled in a way that discouraged cuddling, was the boy, his little innocent face the picture of worriless bliss. That innocence belied the way he could jab sharply with his knees and elbows when he rolled in his sleep, but Urey couldn't say he minded too much. Yurian had woken up early in the pre-dawn hours, when the storm had rolled in, and crawled into bed with them. It wasn't the first time in the past month it had happened, and both he and Raina were happy to give him that comfort. While Yurian had always been well loved and cared for, they were all settling into being a new family. It was clear that Yurian was still adjusting to living with his father full-time, and having a new mother, even though he was obviously happy about it.

It was clear that neither of them were going to wake up again immediately. Quietly, Urey slipped out of bed, stopping only briefly in the bathroom before he headed into the kitchen, debating the benefits of sweet-toast versus waffles.

He didn't debate too long, choosing to make some of both, as well as scrambled eggs and fresh early-spring strawberries. Yurian was going through a growth spurt, so Urey didn't have to worry about leftovers lying around causing unnecessary temptation.

The smell of coffee percolating finally pulled Raina from their bed. She came into the kitchen wrapped in her fluffy green house-robe over her nightgown, with a drowsy smile, followed by a much brighter-eyed seven-year-old boy. "Mmm, this all smells amazing."

"It looks awesome," Yurian nearly bounced into his chair. "Let's eat!"

"Only after _everyone_ is at the table," Urey reminded his son with a firm, gentle tone. "Have you washed your hands this morning?"

"Uh huh." Yurian nodded. "When I used the bathroom."

"Good." Urey glanced at Raina.

Her lips pursed in amusement. "Are you going to ask me if I washed my hands?"

Urey chuckled. "No. I was going to ask if you wanted milk in your coffee this morning. I know how fastidiously primary school teachers wash their hands." Otherwise, they came home with every little germ and bug that went through their classroom.

"I think I'll take it straight this morning," Raina's smile widened. "I was up late."

"So was I."

"Can we eat, _please?_ " Yurian asked with a voice that sounded like he was rolling his eyes. Which, of course, he wasn't, but Urey knew that tone. No mushy stuff when there was food to eat.

"You may start," Urey gave his son permission as he and Raina both sat down. Yurian's plate already held two pieces of sweet toast, and a waffle, and a good sized portion of eggs.

"Thank you, Daddy." Yurian picked up his fork and dug in.

"This is quite the spread," Raina agreed as they all ate.

"I just felt like cooking this morning." Urey smiled as he cut into his waffle. "Besides, if we're going to put together that new garden trellis you wanted, I'll need plenty of energy."

"You're building the trellis today?" Raina glanced at the window, where the rain was still coming down.

"Well, it may not get installed," Urey admitted. Not unless the weather let up by the afternoon. "But I can put most of it together in the shed and put it up as soon as the rain stops. It'll be up in time to plant your flowering vines."

"That's great! I'm really hoping the bulbs Mom sent me like the soil here." Raina's mother had sent her some bulbs for a beautiful purple-blue climbing flower.

Urey smiled. "If they don't, I'm sure I can make some adjustments to the soil in that part of the yard." Alchemy had a lot of practical uses. "But you're a great gardener. I'm sure they'll bloom without any help from me."

Raina chuckled lightly. "Maybe, but I enjoy the company."

He liked the warm look in her eyes. "So do I."

 **April 17** **th** **, 1986**

Lia was only mildly surprised to see Will coming through the food line in the University cafeteria. She had arrived a little later than usual to eat. Normally they didn't cross paths in the middle of the day. "Hello there, Professor Elric."

He turned and saw her, and smiled. "Hello yourself, Professor Elric."

"Seat's open," Lia motioned to the one across from her at one of the tables reserved for faculty.

"I'll take you up on that," Will said as he sat down, placing his burger and fries across from her soup and salad. "It's awfully quiet at my house these days." With all three children off at college or in Creta, and Ren out of town at an alkahestry conference in Xing for a month, Lia could understand that.

"Any word from Ren?" Lia asked curiously.

"She called yesterday." Will nodded before taking a large bite of his burger. "She said Michio and Kamika both came up to the palace for dinner last night, and she's having far too much fun at the conference. She spent almost half an hour just telling me about the new breakthroughs in neurological alkahestry in treating some mental disorders and addiction."

"I'll bet Ethan will want to hear all about it." Lia sipped quietly at her soup. Both of those were important areas where treatments were definitely needed, especially in a city like Central, where many of their patients were soldiers or former military; lines of work that did not lend themselves to long term mental stability. Given what many of them had done and seen, Lia understood why.

"How are things at the clinic?"

"Crazy, as you might expect in the spring, with one of the primary physicians out of town." Lia smiled, then shrugged. "It's not like the others aren't doing their part, it's just the onset of spring colds and allergies, and the usual run of families expanding after the holidays."

Will chuckled. "Naturally. Well I'm sure he's enjoying the chaos. It always seems to me he's only happy when he's working too hard."

Wasn't that the truth? Lia nodded and allowed her long-suffering sigh to be voiced. "That's for sure. He's got his own cold, like he does every spring, but he's still refusing to admit it."

"Because he knows you'll scold him for it."

"Which he thoroughly deserves," Lia replied pointedly, waving her spoon above her bowl emphatically before putting it back into her soup. Ethan had, in fact, been stifling sniffs and sneezes for over a week, and insisting he was fine. He was working long hours at work again though, and she knew that was why. He was working on refining a new medication for severe post-combat anxiety that was more natural and had fewer side effects. As always, when he had an exciting project going on, his own health seemed to be an afterthought…except for eating. At least he never forgot to do that. "You know, you're welcome to come over for dinner."

Will's expression brightened. "I'll probably take you up on that. I've been over at Mom and Dad's at least twice a week, and Cal and Alyse's almost as often, since Ren left."

"Well, eating alone is no fun," Lia agreed. "And I know Ethan would like _someone_ else to talk about his recent work with." As much as she was willing to listen to her husband babble on about anything, that didn't mean she could always offer him the engaging response and feedback he could get from another alchemist. Not when he got deep into it, like this current project. Understanding the jargon was not the same as being able to speak it back fluently. Aeddan, who was heavily into soccer season and didn't talk about anything else, wasn't much of an audience for alchemy talk these days either.

"So if I come over and distract Ethan, you'll feed me. Seems like a fair trade."

Lia nodded. "You distract Ethan, and I'll feed you something besides double-burgers with extra cheese." She couldn't help smiling knowingly at Will. "Does Ren know what you eat when she goes out of town?"

"Of course she does," Will replied, faking a decent look of consternation they both knew wasn't genuine. "She's my wife. She can tell what I've eaten from over a thousand miles away."

"And a month later."

"Are you nagging for both of you?" Will asked.

Lia sipped her glass of tea and tried not to laugh. "Don't you know? Ren and I have been co-nagging you both since college. It's a pact we made."

"Suddenly the past few decades make a lot more sense."

Lia shrugged. "It's how we stay sane."

 **April 26** **th** **, 1986**

There were a lot of things Charlie liked about his new after-school job. The first was that it was an auto-mechanic's shop, which meant he was working on cars for money. The second was that his boss, Trey Govin—the middle-aged guy who owned the place—not only paid him better than most of the after-school jobs he had seen available, but was laid back, happy to teach Charlie everything he knew, and had been happy to work him in around his school schedule. Trey's Garage had been in business for over twenty years, and the man knew Gill's parents, so Charlie's parents had been quite happy that he wanted to take on a little extra work to make his own money, as long as he kept his grades up.  
Which Charlie didn't think would be too much of a problem, due to his other favorite thing about the new job. Trey had been quite happy with Charlie's offer to help close-up shop a couple of nights a week, since it meant he could go home a little earlier. That left Charlie alone once work was done for the day, and Trey liked to go home in time for dinner with his wife, which meant Charlie usually had an hour or two alone on those nights before his parents expected him home.

Above the garage was a tiny apartment that was used mostly as a sort of staff lounge for the garage. It was more of a multi-purpose room, with a kitchenette on one wall, an old orange couch—the kind that would eat you if you weren't careful—and a small bathroom. It wasn't much, but it _was_ the perfect place to meet up with Shelby where no one would be likely to see them together and report to her parents.

At least, that was his plan. This was the first evening he had dared to invite Shelby to join him—during a note he had dared to slip to her when she and Marlena had come by Gill's again a few nights ago. They were part of a group going to the movies. Charlie hated not going with them, but if they wanted this to work, they had to continue to pretend that they weren't seeing each other…that they were starting to move on.

Shelby's own after-school job was only two blocks away, at a little deli and bakery. Charlie waited anxiously as Trey took his time putting his tools away, washing up, puttering up around the shop, and checking the register before he left. Charlie had his head under the hood of one of the cars, pretending he was almost done with a repair he had finished nearly twenty minutes earlier.

As soon as Trey was gone, Charlie washed up, dropping his grease-smeared coveralls in the dented washer kept there for that purpose, and waited an agonizing ten minutes before he heard a soft knock on the side door. Hurrying over, he opened the door and Shelby darted inside, carrying a bag.

"What's that?" Charlie asked only after he had released her from a long hug and passionate kiss. He wanted to head upstairs, but he was surprised by the unexpected addition. He had expected her school bag. His was upstairs too, since he came right over after classes.

"Dinner," she smiled. "There's always a little extra after closing time. Whatever they don't sell, most of it goes down to the homeless shelter if it won't keep, or it's on marked discount. We're allowed to take home some of it too." She shrugged. "So, I thought you might be hungry… later."

At the moment, his only appetite craved _her_ , but Charlie appreciated her thoughtfulness. "Definitely later," he agreed, taking her hand. "Come on, let me show you the place." Trying not to be too over-eager, he took her up the small flight of stairs in the back. He couldn't call the apartment a love nest…but it was their own secret meeting place, and that made it special.

"Cozy," Shelby commented, wrinkling her nose a little at the car smells, but she smiled. "Nice couch."

"I think you'll like it." Charlie took the bag out of her hands. She let go without resisting, and her backpack slid off her arms to the floor before he gathered her into his for another embrace, and a much longer kiss. The little room felt hot, and Charlie's skin tingled where they touched. His muscles twitched. Months without Shelby had been like months in a desert with no water. He _needed_ her with every fiber of his being; and judging by her reactions, she felt the same.

As they tumbled onto the couch, Charlie was grateful for the thick walls and lack of anyone else sharing walls with the apartment. They wouldn't have to worry about noise.

* * *

 _Author's Note: 1/10/2017 And, we're back! Thanks everyone for your patience while I got through end-of-semester, holidays, and running my part of the Convention! Had a great time, and excellent turn-out at the Fan fiction writer's discussion panel._

 _Anyone want to take bets on when Cal's blood pressure is going to spike through the roof, and how high? ;)_


	2. Part 1-2 - Spring-Summer '86

**April 27** **th** **, 1986**

Rainy days were great for a lot of things. Today, Ed found it perfect for lazing about on the couch, drinking hot tea, and re-reading one of his favorite texts on the history of Xingese alkahestry. The house was warm, and a fire crackled in the fireplace, minimizing the dull ache in his ports that typically lingered through the rainy season.

He was lost in the early developments of the Ran Dynasty when Mal's head came up and the old dog bounded to his feet with surprising energy, barking frantically as he trotted across the room. There was urgency to his voice that meant something was wrong.

"What is it?" Ed asked as he kicked off the wooly throw and followed the dog to the side porch door. Mal was whimpering frantically and pawing. That was when Ed heard the panicked yowl out in the rain. It sounded like two animals fighting in the yard.

Ed yanked the door open. "Go boy!"

Mal leaped forward, and Ed followed him out onto the porch. Through the rain, Ed saw his dog fall on two animals scrapping in the grass, growling with a ferocity Ed had never seen from him before. The darker animal squealed a dying noise and fell still. The other animal staggered sideways and vanished into a bush.

Ed crouched next to his dog, and blanched slightly as he saw the dead raccoon on the ground. Most of the scratches on it did not seem to have come from Mal though. The dog had simply broken its neck. "What the hell?"

The dog turned, looking up at him with his big, mournful eyes, then padded towards the bushes alongside the deck. Ed followed as Mal lay down, sticking his nose under the large leaves of a philodendron. His tail thumped twice.

Already soaked, Ed knelt down in the mud and lifted the leaves.

Underneath lay a brown tabby cat, bleeding, and barely breathing. Behind her, in a dry nest of leaves and dirt under the deck itself, was a litter of kittens. "Shit!" Ed didn't hesitate. He clapped his hands together and reached out, placing them gently on the mother cat. It might be too late, but he had to try and save her.

There was little alchemical light involved in healing, but as Ed delved into the cat and tried to make her whole, he could sense that there was little life left. She was badly hurt, organs damaged, and weak. _Come on, girl. Your babies need you._

But the heart was too strained, the blood was too far gone. Ed felt the little life wink out of existence, and he collapsed, sweating despite the rain soaking through his shirt. A taste of warm saltiness dripped into the corner of his mouth.

"Edward, what's going on?" He heard Winry's concerned voice from up on the porch. "I heard barking. Is that… is that a raccoon?"

Ed, head still under the plant, was staring past the cat at her orphaned kittens, who were a squirming puddle of mewling fur. He couldn't even tell how many there were. He reached out without hesitation, using his flesh hand to gently bring the kitchens out one at a time. He held his shirt out with his auto-mail hand, making a hammock. Within just a few seconds, his shirt held six kittens.

"Ed?"

He sat up, and Winry gasped. Ed looked up at her as he stood carefully. "The raccoon killed the mother," he said, far less emotion in his voice than he felt. "Mal went after the raccoon." He wondered then, how long the cat had been nesting under their house, and how long the dog had known about her.

"That's a brave boy," Winry crouched, stroking the dog's head as he went back up on the porch. He moved away from her before shaking violently. It missed Winry, but hit Ed.  
Not that he cared. "We've got to get them inside and warm."

"Of course." Winry didn't even try to take the kittens, she just opened the door and they went inside. Then she hurried into the laundry room, coming out with fresh warm towels from the dryer. "Now give me those sweet little babies," she reached out, taking the kittens one at a time and swaddling them in their own little hand towels. A large towel she tossed around Ed's shoulders. The largest towel, which belonged to the dog, went over his back. Mal hardly noticed as he stood there, his nose level with the edge of the dining table on which Winry had created a quick nest of kitten-wraps using another towel and a deep basket.

By the time Ed had toweled off, the kittens were blinking sleepy eyes. His heart ached for them. Up close, they couldn't be more than three weeks old. Their eyes and ears were open, if squinty, but they were very small. Their wiggling pile made him pretty sure they might crawl, but weren't old enough to really walk. There was a mix of colors. Two of them looked to have the same brown tabby markings as their mother. Another was brown-tabby and white. There was one black-and-white spotted kitten, one solid black with a white spot on its nose, and a little tri-colored calico. They were far too young to be weaned. Ed turned and went to the phone.

"What are you doing?" Winry asked.

"Calling Deanna," Ed replied as he dialed the phone. "The dairy has lots of cats. They might have a mama who would take the kittens. Or they'll at least know how to feed babies."

"Good idea." Winry looked bemused and Ed knew why. He had never been much of a cat person. They were smug, and their personalities generally clashed with his. Still, he couldn't abandon babies to die.

It only took a few minutes to get information and a promise from Deanna to have someone show up at their house in the next hour with either kitten feeding supplies or a nursing mama cat. When he got off the phone, he found that Winry had moved the basket down near the fireplace. With the screen in front of it, there was no danger of the kittens crawling out of the basket or into the flames. Winry knelt on the flood beside them. On the other side of the basket, Mal had laid down with his large nose resting right at the edge.

"I think he knew they were there." Ed commented softly. "He went right for the raccoon when I let him out, and he was clearly concerned about the cat."

"He's awfully protective of the kittens," Winry acknowledged, smiling down at the tiny babies. "But then, that's what he's bred for isn't it."

"They're protectors." Ed nodded. Mal had been a great family pet his whole life. It was entirely his nature to want to protect babies born under their house. Species didn't matter.

"I guess we have house guests."

"Ed, I thought you didn't like cats."

Ed gestured at the bundle of fur. "How can anyone say no to those?"

Winry chuckled. "Most people couldn't, but you've been saying no to cats your whole life."

"Yeah, well, I didn't say we were keeping them all," Ed pointed out. "Though… maybe one or two. It would keep the mice out."

"Yes, yes they would."

"They'll work for their living. Very practical."

"Yes, yes they are."

"All right, you want me to admit it?" Ed sighed, shaking his head. "Okay, they're cute."

Winry stood, leaving Mal, who didn't even stir. His eyes were riveted on the kittens. "Maybe we should let the dog decide which one to keep."

"If we let him have his way, we'd end up with six cats. No," Ed disagreed. There was no way he was letting that happen! "But we can narrow it down once they're eating solid foods and can be found homes." One cat, maybe two given the size of their house, would be practical. The lack of mice would be worth it, especially since they would stop driving Winry nuts. For now, he just wanted them to live.

"There's time," Winry agreed. "I can think of a few people who might want a kitten."

So could Ed. That was one of the good things about farm life.

* * *

By the time someone knocked at the door, the kittens had mostly dried, and had started to wake, their little eyes blinking, and their little mouths mewing with the distinct cry of hungry babies. Mal, who still hadn't moved, began to get very concerned. His ears down, he whimpered and stared at them with an expression that clearly said _the babies are unhappy. Fix it!  
_  
Winry was the first one to the door, but only because Edward was in the bathroom. Outside, she found Deanna and her fourteen-year-old daughter, Rhiana, standing on the porch. Deanna was holding an umbrella and a bag. Rhiana had what looked like a pet carrier under a towel. "Is that our new mama?" she asked as she let them both in.

"Almost," Deanna replied as she shook off the umbrella and set it down on a mat by the door. "Mom and Dad didn't have any nursing mothers, but this lady is due in the next couple of weeks. So once she gives birth, her milk will come in. Until then, I'm hoping she'll bond with your litter. She's an experienced mother, and she's nursed orphans before."

"I like her already." Winry peered under the towel curiously at the cat inside. All she could see for the moment were two glowing green eyes.

"Until then, we brought cat milk substitute and bottles." Deanna held out the bag in her hand. "You and Edward will need to feed the kittens every two to four hours."

So much for sleep. "Babies are babies." Winry took the bag of supplies and looked inside. There was a bottle of kitten formula, and several tiny bottles. "And they're already hungry. Let's introduce them to their new mother and you can show us how to feed them."

"It can't be too different from feeding Pir," Ed commented as he joined them, referring to the runt puppy of Daia's that he had helped feed when he had rescued the dog and her puppies, decades ago.

"Then you can demonstrate your baby feeding skills," Deanna chuckled.

"Should we introduce them to the cat first, or feed them first?" Ed asked.

"Her name is Misha," Deanna said, "And given how eager she is, I say let's introduce them first."

Inside the crate, Winry could see cat movements, and hear little noises. Misha certainly sounded like she wanted out. "I'll unwrap the kittens." She went over to the nest and started unrolling the kittens so they could more easily curl up with their foster mother.

"Come here you," Ed took a hold of Mal's collar and pulled him over to the couch. The dog resisted, but he did what he was told. "Mama cat may not like you."

"We'll see." Deanna gestured for Rhiana to come forward.

The teenager knelt down and opened the crate. Winry watched curiously as a thick-furred shorthaired brown tabby with a white neck and belly, waddled out of the container, stretched awkwardly, and then twitched her ears in the direction of the nest. She paused for only a moment, and then moved purposefully towards the crying babies.  
It took almost no time at all, Winry noticed, for Misha to determine that there was no other female cat in the building, and begin to lick the kittens. Within minutes, she was lying on her side, licking kittens who were trying-in vain- to nurse against her swollen belly.

"Good girl." Deanna stroked Misha's head. "We can feed them now."

Winry went into the kitchen with Deanna, who showed her how much of the formula to mix up, and how much to put in the bottle. Then they made up three bottles and returned to the basket.

"Let's feed these babies." Ed grinned, taking a bottle, and then reaching for a kitten.

"You want to show them?" Deanna offered the third bottle to her daughter, who took it, grinning, and picked up the black-and-white.

"Here's what you do," Rhiana said, holding the kitten so that it was cradled on her lap, belly-down. As she held the tiny nipple to the kitten's face, it nuzzled, then reached out, grabbing at her hand with its claws, and took a tentative suck…then began to eat hungrily. Rhiana held it carefully, narrating everything, including how to make sure the kitten didn't aspirate.

Winry smiled, watching her great-granddaughter feeding the kitten with an ease that said this wasn't the first time she had bottle-fed a baby animal. She and Ed followed her directions, and within half an hour, all six kittens were fed, and once more asleep, now snuggled up against their foster mother. Thankfully Misha didn't seem to mind Mal, who had come back over and was lying very still, watching them protectively.

During the feeding, they had managed to identify the gender of the kittens. The litter contained four girls, and two boys. The black kitten with the single white spot, and the tabby-and-white, were the two males.

"I hope she's up for these six babies on top of her own," Winry commented when they had finished.

"She's an experienced mother. I'm sure she'll be fine. Especially with supplemental help," Deanna assured her as she washed the bottles gently in the kitchen sink. "After a few, the numbers don't matter much."

"Mom would know," Rhiana chuckled.

Winry thought it was an odd statement for a teenage girl to make, even if she was the oldest of six. Then she saw Deanna's bemused smile, and gaped. " _Again?_ "

"Again what?" Ed asked, poking his head into the kitchen.

"What do you think?" Winry asked him, enjoying the satisfaction of watching Ed's eyes widen.

" _Seven?_ " Ed asked incredulously.

Deanna shrugged and set the bottles on a dishtowel, ends up, to dry. "Yes, seven." She turned to face them. "We just told my parents, and Aldon and Cassie this afternoon, so you were next."

"Well I'm glad we didn't have to wait long," Winry chuckled as she hugged her granddaughter-in-law. She refrained from commenting on all of the statements that bubbled into her head first; that seven was a lot; was it planned; was this their last? She was sure they had been inundated with all of those questions today, and probably a bit of teasing as well. "Congratulations."

Ed was grinning, but apparently, he had also decided to behave. He looked at Rhiana. "Ready to do more babysitting?"

The fourteen-year-old chuckled. "Sure, as long as my fee goes up."

Deanna smiled. "We'll consider negotiations."

 **May 2** **nd** **, 1986**

"So, how does it look?" Ian asked Bonnie as he spun around in wardrobe, letting the billowing red coat move around him. He was getting used to the wig, but it still disturbed him to have the braid moving around his head, when he had always kept his hair short. Still, the wig had been easier than growing out his own hair, which didn't have the same texture as his grandfather's, and wouldn't have looked right.

Bonnie eyed the coat critically before smiling. "I think we nailed it."

Looking in the mirror, Ian had to agree. Bonnie had managed to recreate his grandfather's distinctive red coat-sized for Ian's height-with uncanny accuracy. "You nailed it," he corrected.

Bonnie shrugged. "It wouldn't have been as good if I hadn't been able to get a look at the coat up close. I have your grandfather to thank for that."

"He's been very accommodating with all this." Grandpa Ed had been more than happy to let Bonnie have a look at his coat, presuming she promised not to take it apart to get a look at the seams, fastenings, and other elements. She had been exceedingly careful with it. He had been more than happy to wax eloquently to Ian-for hours-about his experiences as a teenager, and in his twenties in the mysterious other-world that was Europe, and about the critical part of his life for Ian's purposes, his late-twenties and early-thirties, when he had become a General, and been involved in the first attempt at a Drachman invasion. Thankfully, in rehearsals, the director seemed very pleased so far with Ian's portrayal of his brilliant, if mercurial, grandfather.

It was a little weird that the rest of the cast kept asking Ian for advice on their characters, but particularly the actors playing Great-Uncle Alphonse and Grandma Winry. They were both newer actors, fresh faces in film, though he had seen them both in supporting television roles. Ray Stinnes was playing Alphonse. He was a couple of inches taller than Ian-essential given he would be spending the flash-back sequences in the suit of armor, but also to give the impression that Edward was shorter than his brother. He had short, dark-golden hair, and eyes that were a very light brown; not quite the exact shade of gold that ran in the Elric family, but close enough for film work. His build was not dissimilar to Ian's, if a little more solid. They looked like they could be brothers, if the audience didn't know what all of Ian's brothers looked like.

The woman playing Winry was also wearing a wig, due to the difficulty of growing out and matching his grandmother's long, flowing golden hair, but she was otherwise a knock-out near double. Terri Varil-whose natural hair was shoulder-length and brown-had big, deep blue eyes, a feisty expression, and a body that was muscular enough that she could pull off playing an automail mechanic. When Ian had asked what she did to work out, Terri admitted that her family owned a trucking business, and she had spent a lot of her childhood helping her parents load, unload, and inventory cargo, though now she did hit the gym more, to keep that up.

Bonnie wasn't doing all of the costumes for this particular film, but she had been asked to create the iconic, critical pieces. The historical accuracy was uncanny.  
Ian turned back to Bonnie. "I'm glad it looks right. Does it suit me?" They had been in rehearsals for a couple of weeks, but filming started tomorrow, and now everything had to look just right.

"You look like a taller Edward Elric," Bonnie replied. "It's very striking, but I prefer you."

Ian laughed. "That's all right. So do I." He closed in and kissed her briefly. "Well, here I go. Are you going to get to watch any of the filming?"

"Not today," Bonnie replied regretfully. "I have to finish the ball gowns for _Aerugian Sunset._ But you know I'll be there sometime. Someone has to tell you what you're doing wrong."

"Haha, very funny." He kissed her one more time, then he had to go. "You'll have plenty of opportunities for that."

"I know. Now go before you're late."

"I'm going I'm going," he laughed as he turned towards the door. "Don't forget, dinner at my place tonight."

"As if I could," she called behind him. "You never let me forget!"

As much as Ian wouldn't have minded treating her out every night of the week, neither one of them would have any money if they did that to their budgets. Living well did not mean spending carelessly. Most nights they ate at her apartment or his. More often of late, that was his. There were very few nights now where they weren't together, at least for the evening. Though Ian particularly enjoyed the nights when Bonnie stayed over. They still hadn't had sex, but he was content to cuddle if that was what made her happy and comfortable. Just having her there was enough for now.

Ray and Terri were waiting for him on the set. Since the primary focus of the film was the years after Ed and Al's return to Amestris, they were dressed for it. Ray wore military uniform, and Terri was dressed the way Ian had seen in most of the family photos from that time period; fitted capris pants and a collared, sleeveless top. The long blonde hair of the wig was pulled up and clipped in the back.

"Well?" Terri grinned impishly at him. "Do we pass muster, _Edward_?"

Ian laughed. "Well I think so. It's the audience we have to convince." The toughest audience, he suspected, would be his own family.

"I think you might manage it."

Ian turned around, grinning at his colleagues' stunned faces as his Great Uncle joined them, a guest pass clipped to his shirt pocket. Ian's little treat and surprise for his co-stars.

"Uncle Alphonse, you made it!"

"I just wish Ed and Winry were in town," Al chuckled as he looked them over. "It's an uncanny resemblance. Except you," he turned to Ian, grinning. "I've never been able to look Ed straight in the eyes. Well, not since I was five."

Ian laughed. "I told them I was too tall for the part. Somehow, the movie world doesn't care so much about that."

Ray came forward, shaking Al's hand. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

"It's an honor to meet _you_ ," Al returned the shake warmly. "It's nice to know they cast me well."

"Well, I hope I do you justice," Ray admitted.

"I'm sure you'll do fine." Al then turned and shook Terri's hand as well. Then he winked. "All of you. Don't spend too much time being wrapped up in whether or not you're doing it the way we did it. Just have fun. After all, more than half of the things we did people think is fiction anyway these days."

"Well, we believe them," Ray replied vehemently.

"That's good, because you're going to be trying to convince your audience that they actually happened."

 _Right, no pressure there._ Ian nodded. "I'm sure we can handle it. Come on, you can watch us film the first scene."

"Great! I've been looking forward to it. What are you doing?" Al asked curiously, as they moved towards the door to the nearest sound stage.

"This morning we're filming the celebration of your dramatic return from another world. This afternoon we're actually filming the return scene itself."

"That should be dramatic," Al quipped.

"Only when it's done," Ian grinned. "It's going to look pretty silly until the special effects crew is done with it."

"So I've heard," Al replied. "Actually, your director asked me if I'd consider being part of the special effects for the scene."

"Oh really?" Ian hadn't heard that. "What are you doing to do?"

Al grinned. "Provide a little authentic alchemy."


	3. Part 1-3 - Spring-Summer '86

**May 10** **th** **, 1986**

"They're so cool!" Yurian grinned with pleasure as he looked into the basket full of kittens. "Misha's kittens are so much smaller."

"That's because they're only a few hours old," Urey reminded his son as they sat on the floor of his grandparents' house, watching Misha calmly licking all of her kittens; her six adoptive babies, and the four new kittens born that morning. Along with being smaller than the rescued litter, their coloring made them easy to tell apart for now. Only one of them was the browner tabby color of Misha. Two of the others were solid gray, and another was a silvery gray tabby.

"Can we have one…or two?" Yurian asked, looking up at him hopefully.

"Well, we'll have to talk it over." Not that Urey was opposed to having a cat. They were useful in the country, and quiet pets that weren't likely to be much trouble, but he wasn't about to say yes without conferring with Raina first; out of Yurian's hearing range.

"Yes, we will," Raina agreed from where she crouched beside him.

"Well you've got plenty of time to figure it out," Granny Winry assured them. "It's going to be at least a month before the biggest kittens are fully weaned."

"A month is forever!" Yurian exclaimed plaintively, but he never took his eyes off the kittens.

Urey couldn't help exchanging an amused glance with Raina over his son's head. Four weeks wasn't so long to wait. The poor mama cat had carried hers for three months. At least she had plenty of human hands to help care for the extras she was feeding.

He just couldn't quite get over the fact that the one spending the most time with the kittens was Grandpa Ed, who had always insisted he wasn't a fan of cats. Perhaps it really was just because they would make good mousers, but Urey would place bets on his grandparents keeping at least one or two of the kittens. If nothing else, Mal was quite enamored of them, and Ed loved his elderly dog.

The dog had decided that his mission was to guard the cats at all costs, and other than going outside to do his business, had remained sprawled on the floor nearby for days.

Misha had gotten comfortable enough with him that she didn't even object when he came over to nose her and the kittens—very gently—to be sure everyone was present and accounted for.

Like right now. Having so many people around the kittens made Mal uneasy, so Grandpa Ed was sitting on the floor across from them, leaning against Mal, with two of the larger, just-fed kittens on his lap.

"Careful, Grandpa, let kittens get attached and they never leave," Urey grinned.

"It's too late for that," Ed admitted. "Mal would never forgive me. Besides, they'll help with the mice."

"He keeps saying that's the reason," Grandma Winry commented, "But really it's just because he doesn't want to admit he's becoming a cat person."

"Actually, it means admitting I've always been a cat person," Ed replied with an indignant look that was clearly feigned. "Al only says I hate cats because I wouldn't let him rescue every stray we met when we were kids… and, I admit I've gotten fonder of them over the years." He shrugged, looking down at the sleepy little ones he was holding.

"So your not-so-secret love of cats is out," Urey chuckled. "Does Alphonse know?"

"He will when I offer him more kittens."

"Elicia might never forgive us if you do," Winry pointed out.

"Sure she will," Ed grinned. "She gave in to Al's love of cats when she married him."

"Does that mean Mom has to love cats if we do?" Yurian looked up hopefully at Urey.

Urey glanced at his wife. "I think that's only Great-Grandpa Alphonse," he replied carefully. "It's not a rule."

Raina's responding smile said clearly _good answer._ Still, Urey was relatively certain Raina wouldn't object to a cat or two around the house. Mice were a regular issue in Resembool, and voles and other garden pests too. "Let's wait until they're big enough to go home before we get attached to any particular kitten," Raina suggested sensibly.

"Then we'll have a better idea of their personalities too and see if one would even be a good fit."

"Okay," Yurian nodded as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "That makes sense."

"Yes it does," Urey agreed. He was once again grateful that Raina was so good with children. It was making the transition to being a full time father much easier than it would have been otherwise.

 **May 12** **th** **, 1986**

"In a good mood, Shock?"

Tore glanced over at Roy's desk, wondering what had prompted the comment when he realized he was humming. "Actually, yeah," he admitted as he finished sliding the files in his hands back into the right cabinet. "Got a call from Dare this morning."

Roy's expression brightened. "I see. How is the officer-in-training liking North City?"

Tore turned and went to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup of the remaining sludge. He couldn't have been prouder when Dare had made it into officer's school, even if it did mean his son was currently training up north. "Better now that things are starting to thaw." He grinned over his cup. "Much better now that he's proposed to Lorraine." Dare's high school girlfriend had been quite willing to follow him north, choosing to take her studies north as well.

"Took him long enough." Roy joined him at the coffee pot. "You left me tar, as usual."

"Perk of being the boss," Tore snickered. "Lorraine said yes, of course, though they haven't set a date for the wedding. Dare's leaving that up to Lorraine, and she'd like to have to have it back home, in Central."

"Which is convenient for everyone."

"Charisa's definitely thrilled." Tore had his cup halfway to his mouth when the phone at his desk rang. "Duty calls." He set down the drink and cross the room. "Brigadier General Closson's office."

"General, President Heimler requests your presence in his office in fifteen minutes," the familiar voice of Colonel Tamsin, one of Franz's office secretaries came over the line.

"Thank you, Tamsin. Tell the President I'm on my way." Tore put down the receiver. "So much for my coffee."

"Maybe Heimler's office has better coffee," Roy suggested with a knowing look. Everyone knew Franz's office had the best coffee at HQ, which was as it probably should be.

"I'll be sure to get a cup." Tore waved him off as he headed out the door. He had no idea what Franz wanted with him, but it had to be important, yet not critical, to get a summons like that one.

He didn't have to ponder long, when he arrived he was waved right into Franz's office, which meant that either it was important enough the schedule had been cleared, or the President was, for the moment, not inordinately busy.

"Have a seat," Franz waived casually at the chair across from him. "Coffee?" He motioned at the fresh pot steaming on the desk.

Tore managed not to laugh. "Don't mind if I do." He reached out and helped himself to coffee and sugar. "So, Sir, what did you want with me?"

Franz smiled. "Actually, I've got a mission for you."

For him, not one of his men. Now that was interesting. "I'm listening."

"I'd like you to take a little trip up to the Kartos/Cretan border," Franz continued, sliding a folder across the desk. "It's mostly a diplomatic proposition, but the matter is complicated."

Tore opened the folder and looked at the top of the page. "It's an archaeological site." Massive stones, carvings, possibly related to alchemy. Okay, that much made sense for sending alchemists. "It looks fairly straightforward, but I thought Kartos and Creta had a border agreement."

"They do. However, this city technically sits on an old border, and the dig involves experts from both sides." Franz leaned into the back of his chair. "That's not the problem. The issue is that the land technically belongs to a developer who wants to bulldoze the whole thing and build homes and small businesses all over the property."

"Why would they want to destroy such a big historical find?" Tore could hardly believe it.

"Apparently to them, the land is more profitable this way." Franz frowned. Clearly he didn't like it either. "The owner is politically powerful, and the Kartosians on the team don't have enough pull to counter him and make the area a historically preserved site. Creta certainly believes it should be, but only the debate of the exact border line has kept it from being destroyed already, and that's just a sticking point. It won't really do any good if they can't get the Kartos government on board."

"Won't they mind Amestris getting involved?" Tore was skeptical.

"Actually, both sides have agreed to allow an outside, impartial group of alchemists to inspect the sight and determine its value for research," Franz replied. "Which is something, given Kartos doesn't really believe in alchemy."

"They _what?_ "

"They're just weird that way." Franz shrugged. "They're rather attached to their traditions, and in their old ways, all power that we'd consider alchemy was granted by their gods. One of whom," he grinned, "is a god of lightning."

Well now. Tore grinned. "You want me to play god?"

"No. I want you to give an impartial judgment on whether or not the markings on these stones have anything to do with alchemy… and possibly find an excuse to demonstrate your talents. After all, anyone blessed by the lightning god Taor can't be wrong, can he?"

Now that was a fine line to walk. Not that they were going to lie to anyone. Tore's alchemical abilities with electricity, including lightning, weren't fake. "You mentioned this wasn't a singular mission. Who else were you planning to send?"

"From the military, just you," Franz admitted. "This is supposed to be impartial, and the fewer political figures we send along the better. However, we are asking Edward and Alphonse to go along, as world-renowned experts in alchemy, and alchemical artifacts."

Naturally those two would be asked along. "How are they _non-political?_ "

"Believe it or not, outside of Amestris, they're generally seen to be old news. Very retired old news." Franz, like Tore, of course, knew better, and his expression showed that plainly. "Apparently Kartos doesn't keep up with international events as well as some places either. So you'll be our official voice in the matter. Also not surprising, Minxia and Thrakos Argyros have been part of this dig for weeks now. They've all agreed to let Minxia speak on behalf of the potential interests of Xing, should anything useful in alkahestry or the healing arts be identified. Thrakos is there as the Cretan representative for his father and the government."

Another family gathering. Tore wondered how Kartos could not realize how well most of the convening parties knew each other, or if they just didn't care. He wasn't even close to an expert on their political system. Maybe in their country, family ties were just expected in positions of power. He'd have to do some research on them before going but, "I'm in." The site looked far too interesting to pass up the opportunity to see it for himself. Especially if they couldn't save it. He suddenly wanted very much to do so. If Minxia thought it was worth something, he wasn't inclined to doubt her. "When do we leave?"

"You've got about a week and a half," Franz answered. "Ed will be joining us from Resembool by the end of the week, and then you'll be on your way."  
Which didn't leave a lot of time to get ready, but it should be enough. Tore was glad all of the kids were old enough to spend their days in school. Dare was grown. Brandon was in middle school, and Camelia in elementary. With Dare out of the house, managing schedules was a little simpler, and he was sure Charisa could handle it, though she might not be too happy about it. "How long will we be gone?"

"Depends on how long it takes you to complete the evaluation," Franz admitted. "But expect a month or more including travel time."

Tore nodded as he continued to read through the file in front of him. Even as much faster as trains were now than even in his own childhood, there was only so fast they could go. "So, a short vacation," he quipped. "Thanks, Sir. I've been wanting one."

Franz chuckled. "You may not feel that way when you've dealt with the Kartosians for a few days. I'm told it's like arguing with a sledgehammer, only worse."

"Good thing I'm stubborn then."

"I'm counting on it."

 **May 13** **th,** **1986**

Charisa never got tired of entertaining guests, probably because their lives were so busy they rarely had the chance to just invite people over and enjoy their company. This afternoon was one of those pleasant exceptions. With Tore's announcement that he had an out-of-town mission coming up, it had only seemed natural to have their first grilling-out of the year before he left.

She was even less surprised when most of the people invited, though not all, were somehow involved with the upcoming mission to Kartos. Alphonse Elric and his wife, Franz Heimler, and others who might have useful input or who were just friends, like Cal and Alyse, and Will and Ren.

It was a much quieter gathering than they used to be, she mused as she watched everyone sitting around the picnic table in the back yard, though she supposed that was because so many of their children were now grown and off on their own. Brandon and Camelia were home, but only because Brandon was finishing homework. Otherwise he would have been out with friends. The school year was almost over for her younger children, and she knew Brandon was determined to keep his grades up through the end of his middle-school career, even with the end of the spring baseball season.

That was it. With Dare gone in North City, and Gloria and both of Will and Ren's youngest off in Xing, there just weren't many left. Charlie had managed to beg off to spend the afternoon on homework with his friend Gill. Which Charisa expected was more of an excuse to hang out and talk about cars, which was what Alyse certainly seemed to think. Still, at least he was keeping out of trouble. After the disaster last winter, it was good to see the boy cheerful again. Charisa and Tore had both spent a lot of time concerned for their friends, especially during the last weeks of Alyse's cancer treatments.

"It's too bad Ethan and Lia couldn't join us," Charisa commented to Ren as she filled her plate with fresh green bean salad next to her grilled chicken.

"They're too busy packing," Ren smiled. "They're leaving for East City tomorrow."

"It's so great that they can be there for Lily and Randy until the twins are born." Charisa had always been grateful for her father's help with the children.

"The clinic is big enough now to handle having him away for a few weeks." Ren nodded, taking the beans and putting some on her plate before passing them down. "And now that the University is out for the summer, there's nothing requiring Lia to be here either."

"What about Aeddan?" Charisa asked. She hadn't heard anything about Ethan and Lia taking their teenage son with them.

"He's staying here to mind the house," Will cut in. "Lia was telling me all about it last week. Eamon's on his way home, so it will only be for a few days."

"By himself?" Charisa couldn't imagine leaving even her own well-behaved sons alone at that age for several days.

"Nope," Franz cut in. "Actually, I'm staying with him, just until Eamon gets back."

"Things getting interesting at your place?" Tore asked, teasing lightly. Charisa refrained from smacking her husband's elbow. It wasn't a secret, to them at least, that James and Krista were ready to start a family, but so far there was no news on that front, and it wasn't something Charisa wanted to banter about, especially without them present. Their foster-daughter had already expressed frustration that after several months of trying, they didn't seem to be getting anywhere.

Apparently, Franz agreed with Charisa's view on the topic. "I keep my nose out of my son's business," he replied magnanimously, and sipped his lemonade. "Which means I keep it doubly out of my daughter-in-law's. But I don't think they'll mind having a little more privacy without the old man in the way."

"Pretty sure that's a universal preference," Tore chuckled. Charisa smiled. He had never once complained about them moving in with her father and taking care of him for the rest of his life, for which she was still grateful. "It's not personal. It's almost too bad you're not coming with us on this mission."

"I'd only be a hindrance," Franz replied, stabbing his grilled steak with a fork. "Even if I were an expert on the subject, which I'm not, I'd have to bring an entire entourage with me as President, and it would totally unbalance the equal authority represented in these discussions."

"He's right," Alphonse nodded. "Though it's too bad. I've been reading up on these rune-stones of Kartos, and they're fascinating. They've found other groups of them before in other parts of the country. They're just normally in more remote locations where no one wants to build anything, and the runes are more traditional. These seem to be unique. It's no wonder Minxia and her team don't want them destroyed."

"My daughter wouldn't let a man bulldoze down an ancient outhouse, just on principle," Will chuckled, though he looked a little wistful. "I know it's not my place, but I'd like to officially request to come along. Ancient alchemical artifacts _is_ one of my research specialties. And, no offense meant to Dad and Uncle Ed, but I do have some research experience in areas they don't."

Franz nodded. Ren didn't look at all surprised at the request, so Charisa presumed Will had already run this by his wife beforehand. Franz looked at Tore. "It's your mission." Tore, who looked a little pleased to be asked, nodded thoughtfully. "You make a good point. You've got a good reputation with the academic community here, and in Pylos. Didn't you travel to Kartos once?"

"We did," Will nodded, including Ren. "Before Minxia was born, we did a lot of research travel, and spend some time in northern Creta. I took a trip up to Kartos to look at several of their historical sites using grant money from a museum that was funding us at the time."

"Will does know more about Kartos than I do," Al agreed.

"Then I don't see any reason why we can't bring one more historian." Tore nodded. "Given you have a reputation outside of just alchemy research, you might actually seem more objective than Ed and Al."

Will looked pleased, and a little relieved. "Great!"

"He's been dying to go ever since Minxia first told us they'd found anything," Ren said quietly to Charisa as the other end of the table erupted in discussion.

"Some things never change," Elicia added. "Al hasn't stopped talking about it since Franz called. He's spent hours on the phone with Ed already discussing the possibilities."

"Cal's disappointed he can't go." Alyse nodded, glancing at the boys. Even Cal was fully engaged in the conversation. "But Franz can't send both him and Tore somewhere together these days. They've got too much responsibility between them."

"It's scary when you think about it." Charisa remembered a time when the idea of leaving Tore and Cal in charge of anything was a dangerous proposition. Somehow, they had both turned into excellent and _mostly_ respectable generals.

"I wonder if the history books will even be able to recount the exploits accurately," Alyse chuckled. "Or if they won't be able to make sense of how two troublemakers like them turned out to be military leaders."

"History is full of epic heroes who weren't exactly by-the-book," Ren pointed out. "Not just old myths either. After all, Edward and Alphonse have certainly managed to pull off some unbelievable feats."

"It's true. Our family doesn't really go for traditional ways of handling things." Elicia added a lemon to her iced tea. "I think that's why Tore and Cal fit in so easily."

"Funny, I don't remember Cal being welcomed quite that easily," Alyse looked meaningfully past her mother at her father.

Ren and Elicia exchanged a glance. "It didn't take too long to talk your father around," Elicia said.

Charisa, who had been at university during the war and just after, had missed most of that. All she knew was what she had learned from Tore. By the time she had reason to be fully aware of the family dynamic, Cal and Alyse were married. That had been well before she and Tore had settled their differences-and Charisa had already been married once- and gotten back together. Their friendship was one Charisa hadn't been so sure of, as much of a bad influence as Cal had been on Tore in their earlier days. At least, that was how Charisa had felt at the time. She'd gotten over it in the intervening years. Cal had kept Tore alive and mostly whole, even if it was the only ways he knew how. They were best friends, and they had done too much to help each other over the years for her not to see and accept it. It had been easier to become friends with Alyse, given the family history and the similarities in their upbringing and views of the world.

"-don't you think, Charisa?"

Charisa blinked, realizing in her reverie that she had missed something. "Sure," she replied, before thinking to wonder what she had agreed to.

"Great! It's all set. While the boy's are gone, we'll have our own fun," Ren smiled. "It's been too long since we've gotten a chance to just relax with the girls."

"Do I get to come along even though my husband isn't leaving town?" Alyse teased.

"Of course," Elicia replied. "We could all use a vacation."

Alyse of all of them, Charisa thought. They had almost lost her less than six months ago. "So, what were you thinking?" she asked, hoping she hadn't missed that part of the conversation.

"That's where we need to brainstorm," Ren smiled sheepishly. "I hadn't gotten that far. Though there's that new Country Club opening south of the city. They're offering a trial membership visit during the first month they're open, at a discounted price."

"Oh, I heard about that." Charisa had received an advertisement for it in the mail. She suspected targeted advertising, focused on families in Amestris who could afford to belong to one of the Country Clubs outside the city walls. There were a few, and Charisa had been to events at several as a guest, though she and Tore had not yet joined one. Not that they couldn't, just that with their busy schedules, there wasn't often time. That, and Tore had never really been the Country Club type. "They have quite the list of amenities." On top of the typical golf courses and tennis courts, they bragged a full day spa, hot tubs, swimming pool, and even a riding stable and trails. The list went on down the flyer in very small print. "We should definitely check it out."

While Tore was gone, she could have a little adventure of her own, even if it was smaller in scale.


	4. Part 1-4 - Spring-Summer '86

**May 17** **th** **, 1986**

Ethan and Lia had forgone asking Randy to meet them at the train station in East City. Having lived there for four years while they were in school themselves, they had no problem making their way to the apartment complex just a couple of blocks off the ECU campus, where Randy and Lily lived. The building had clearly been remodeled since the last time Ethan had been to East City, but then many things had changed. Life was like that.

"It's a little like the old days," Lia smiled at him as they walked side by side through the park between the bus stop and the apartment building. It was a beautiful afternoon, and Ethan liked how the dappled sunlight shot occasionally halos around her head of pale blond hair. "We could be back in college on our way to eat."

Ethan chuckled. "You in something cute that will make me jealous from all the men staring. Me… underfed and overworked. Not much has changed has it?"

Lia smiled and nudged him with her shoulder. "Not a thing."

Randy met them at the door to the second-story apartment, smiling but obviously tired. "Welcome to our little slice of heaven." He stepped out of the way so they could enter.

Ethan set their bags down by the door, getting his first real look at the home his daughter and her husband had made for themselves, and the two children who would soon enter the world. The living room into which they stepped was cozy, but not cramped, and surprisingly uncluttered for the home of two college students and musicians. The primary colors were cream and a muted slate blue, with light-stained wood floors. The kitchen was open aside from an island between it and most of the room, and also lightly colored in natural wood. Through a door past the kitchen Ethan could just make out an open bedroom that looked like the master. Another small hall off to the right had three closed doors. The artwork on the walls was mostly musically themed.

"This is lovely," Lia smiled. "Where's Lily?"

"In the bathroom." Randy looked apologetic. "Would you like to see your room?"

"Sure," Lia replied before Ethan could say a word. Instead, he picked up their bags again, impatient as he was to see his little girl, and followed Randy and Lia to the right, where he took them into the door furthest at the end.

"This is usually the practice room," Randy explained, "But it's also the guest room."

Ethan could see why. It barely fit a full-sized bed in the corner, just big enough for two guests, with enough room for chairs, music stands, and the desk and racks that held sheet music and a variety of instruments and cases, as well as the equipment needed to maintain and care for all of them. "It'll do nicely," he assured his son-in-law, and tried not to smile too much when Randy relaxed.

"We appreciate you putting us up for the next few weeks," Lia elaborated in a friendlier tone, as if Ethan's comment wasn't quite enough.

"You have no idea how much I appreciate you coming this early," Randy replied fervently.

"Is everything all right?" Ethan asked, not sure he liked the tone of Randy's voice.

"Oh…yeah. Lily and the babies are fine. That's what the doctors say anyway." Randy nodded. "It's just a lot to get ready for, and she's supposed to stay off her feet except for necessities. I'm glad school's out. Maybe she'll finally get some rest before the babies get here. I'm just…"

Ethan gave in and put a hand on his son-in-law's shoulder, and smiled sympathetically. "We get it. We've been there."

He caught Lia's approving smile out of the corner of one eye. Randy didn't see it, but he smiled at Ethan. "Thanks. I know. That's why I'm glad you're here, though Lily's taking it all more calmly than I am."

At that moment a call of "Randy!" from the other room sent him bolting out the door.

"Coming, honey!"

Ethan turned to Lia, who was smiling. "It's nice to be needed."

Lia reached out and squeezed his hand. "It is. Let's go see just how much."

If nothing else, Ethan expected they would be moral support and help around the house. He remembered Lia's first pregnancy, but his own experiences with childbirth were different enough he hadn't been as panicked as most new fathers, and his ability to use medical alchemy to help ease her through the delivery had made it an easier experience. Randy had none of that.

Not that his experience made Ethan feel less of a shock when he entered the living room and saw his daughter for the first time in several months, her belly distended with third-trimester twins, Randy hovering around her like a hummingbird to a flower as he got her settled comfortably on the couch, feet up.

Lily saw him and her face lit up even as she laughed. "You should see your expression, Dad."

Ethan shook himself mentally, and smiled as he followed Lia across the room. Naturally, his wife got there first, and hugged her daughter, meaning Ethan had to wait. "I'm your father, I'm allowed." He bent down for a hug as Lia finally moved out of his way. "You look radiant."

"I feel exhausted," Lily admitted as she hugged him back. "I'm so glad you're both here. There's still so much to do, and I can't help Randy with most of it."

"Well your apartment looks amazing for so-much-left-to-do," Lia assured her as they took seats in chairs as Randy went over to the kitchen and fetched a glass of water and a plate of cheese, carrots, and what looked like some kind of trail mix of nuts and dried fruit. He placed it on the coffee table in easy reach of Lily, who beamed at him before taking a piece of cheese.

"I'm glad," Lily continued. "The babies' room is painted, but half of the furniture isn't built, and I don't have all the baby clothes organized yet and put away. So many things need to be washed or sanitized, and without knowing when the babies will come…"

"It's hard not to go crazy," Lia nodded in understanding.

Ethan did the same. That was the trick with twins. They were much more likely to come early, and need extra care. Lily was thirty-two weeks now, but that meant that the babies could come anytime from a few days from now—not very desirable—to a month, but they were unlikely to make it to forty weeks. "Does your physician have an estimate?"

"So far the best we have is 'not this week,'" Randy replied. "They're quite content where they are for now."

"Good. Do you mind if I…" he held up one hand, indicating he'd like to get an alchemical appraisal of the situation. That was one of the reasons he was here, and her doctors knew he was coming. There wasn't an alchemical obstetrician in East City yet, and it was just another safety precaution.

"No, please," Lily smiled. "Say hi to your grandkids."

"It's too bad you can't use alchemy to tell gender," Randy commented as Ethan knelt down again next to his daughter, pulling out one of the gloves he used most often for a basic medical "scan" of a patient.

Ethan chuckled. "You know how much parents would pay me if I could tell them the gender of their babies for certain before they were born?" He could take an educated guess, but it wasn't like he could physically see what they were in the womb. Determine health, sure, but not so easily if they were boys or girls. He concentrated then, placing his hand gently on Lily's stomach, and letting the tiniest bit of alchemical energy flow through him, and her. As curious as he was about his grandchildren, he started with her health and was relieved to find that, aside from the usual exhaustion, and the flow of nutrients to the womb, Lily was doing very well for carrying twins and they did appear to be snuggly in place. No effacement, no dilation. Just two little beings, growing as fast as they could, with strong little heartbeats. One of them took offense at the closeness of his hand to his-or-her leg and kicked at him. Outside, Ethan felt the tiny thump under his palm. "Everything looks great," he commented as he opened his eyes and removed his hand. "You're doing wonderfully, sweetie."

"I've been spending a lot of time floating in the pool," Lily admitted. "The campus indoor pool is very clean, so I've been doing laps and just floating in the deep end a lot. It's been so nice on my back, though I've gotten some funny looks from the girls on the swim team," she chuckled. "When the complex's outdoor pool opens, I'll use that. It's just downstairs between the buildings, so it's a short waddle."

"That you're not making by yourself," Randy commented.

"I think there are enough of us to make sure that happens," Lia assured Randy.

He nodded, pacified. "I'm sorry, would either of you like something to drink… or eat?" he blurted out belatedly, looking embarrassed.

Ethan decided not to harass him about it. "Water, or tea, would be great. Don't worry about a snack, I thought we'd bring in something for dinner tonight, our treat."

"Water for me," Lia chimed in.

Randy and Lily both smiled, and Lily looked slightly dreamy. "Can it be Aerugean, please? We haven't eaten out in almost a month."

"Whatever you want," Ethan assured her. A month?

"We've been saving money by doing all our cooking at home," Randy explained as he poured them both drinks. "Even with both of my jobs, and our scholarships, there's not a lot of room for unnecessary luxuries, you know? We're trying to save up as much as possible for when they get here."

Lia nodded. "It's hard to save sometimes, when you don't have a lot to start with."

Though Ethan's medical income, and Lia's teaching had put them in a better place than the young couple, he was glad to hear they were being responsible. Of course, he and Lia had also been living with his parents, which had helped them save quite a bit; Money that Ethan fully intended to use to help his children get a positive start in life. "Well, tonight, we feast," he grinned. "So, where am I picking up food, and what would you like?"

"Get out paper," Randy chuckled. "Your daughter's going to have a long list."

Lily didn't even give him a dirty look, she just shrugged. "Holixo's is my favorite. They've only been open a couple of years, but they're almost as good as Mrs. Mustang's cooking. I'd like-"

Ethan snagged the pad and paper Lia pulled out of her purse with a thankful nod and started scribbling as Lily listed off everything on their menu she liked, and wanted. It was not a short list. "And you?" he asked his son-in-law.

"Just some of their peppered beef street tacos," he replied.

"Why don't you go with him?" Lia suggested. "That's a lot of food to carry, and you can help him decide what we want."

Oh great, his wife was putting him in charge of picking her food. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"I trust you." She looked at Randy. "Don't worry. Lily and I will be fine here."

They wanted mother-daughter time. Ethan nodded as he stood. "Sounds great. Come on. Let's go before they get busy with the dinner rush."

Randy looked nervous, but he nodded in agreement. "Of course. It's not too far from here. Just a few blocks actually."

On foot, Ethan realized. Though he didn't say anything until he and Randy were out of the apartment and back out on the street. "So, how do you plan to get around town with a family of four?" he asked as they walked to the restaurant.

"I haven't had much luck finding a good car," Randy admitted. "Either it's too old, too broken, or too expensive. We can afford a small car payment, but the down payments are killing me."

"I'd like to help with the down payment," Ethan told him. "That is, if you don't mind. I couldn't promise you new, or stylish, but a reliable family car doesn't need to be either of those things."

To his credit, Randy didn't bluster or try to claim it wasn't all right for a man to accept an offer of help from family. "Thank you," he replied simply. "It would really take a lot of stress off both of us, especially Lily. Her doctor actually came to our place for last week's visit, because she didn't want Lily walking that far or taking the bus to her office."

"Tomorrow." Ethan nodded. "You and I will go look at the cars you've been looking at, and see what kind of a deal we can swing with the dealers." With Ethan's checkbook, he suspected that would be a whole lot easier. "Then we don't have to spend the next few weeks walking everywhere for food."

Randy smiled. "Great! If we get any less sleep, I'm not going to be much good for walking anywhere."

"Oh, you're going to lose more sleep," Ethan assured him, "For years, but it will be worth it."

"And I should believe you because…"

"Hey, you like how my daughter turned out don't you?"

"You make a very good point."

 **May 25** **th** **, 1986**

There really needed to be more songs about traveling with friends, Edward considered as he hefted his suitcase up into the rack above his bed in the sleeping car berth he was sharing with Alphonse. Tore and Will had booked the one right across the hall. On their way to another ancient alchemical research site, full of wonder and possibility, it made him feel younger than his eighty-seven years.

The idea that he might get to argue loudly with some Kartosian idiots put him in a good mood too.

Ed had been in Central barely two days. He had just had enough time to arrive, say hello to everyone who wasn't going with them, and then meet up with everyone at Franz' house to discuss how everything was supposed to go. Or, at least, what their aims were. No one was under any illusion that this would be quick and simple. One did not argue with Kartosians easily. Ed had seen a few, mostly in Creta. They were tall, towering folk, mostly blond, though it varied. They put him very much in mind of the peoples he'd studied a lifetime ago on the other side of the gate, from the Nordic cultures. In fact, Edward had privately packed his old journals from that time, just on the odd chance they might be useful.

He and Al had both laughed when Al admitted he had done the same.

With just enough time for last goodbyes, Ed returned to the platform, even if it was mostly to watch everyone else hug goodbye. Winry had stayed in Resembool.  
Not that he went hug-less. Elicia and Gracia had brought him and Al to the station that morning, and he got warm heartfelt embraces from them both.

"Stay out of trouble, Edward," Gracia smiled as they parted.

"Do you really think I'd to anything stupid, Gracia?" he asked.

"No, but I promised Winry I'd say it," she admitted. "Somehow, you do seem to find yourself in the middle of chaos, no matter how simple a trip is supposed to be."

"I live an exciting life." Ed gave her one quick kiss on the cheek. "Be well, Gracia. I'll see you when we get back." And in the fall, assuming she continued in her usual good health, for her one-hundredth birthday. Ed and Winry had already scheduled to come up for it.

"I can't wait to hear all about it."

It was time to round up the rest. "Come on, fellas," Ed grinned as he mimed grabbing collars. "If you stand around hugging your wives all day, we'll miss the train."

"You're only saying that because you left Winry at home and you're jealous," Al chuckled, but he let Elicia go.

Tore and Will, who had actually already kissed Charisa and Ren goodbye, followed. "We've got time," Tore assured him, before he smiled smugly at Ed. "Don't get used to barking orders again. Remember, I'm in charge of this mission."

"And you're welcome to it!" Ed laughed. "If it all blows up in our faces, at least, for once, I won't have to take responsibility for it."

"Won't you?" Tore asked. "You trained me."

"In alchemy, not diplomacy." Ed smiled. "Everyone knows I'm never to be trusted with anything diplomatically sensitive."

"It's true," Al nodded as they boarded the train. "All Ed ever does is blow stuff up, or get blamed for things he didn't do."

"Yeah. At least they could wait until I actually do something before they blame me for it."

"Why are we bringing you again?" Al asked.

The four of them gathered in Ed and Al's berth, sitting on the beds.

"As if you'd do something like this without me." Ed leaned back against the wall behind the narrow bed. "Besides, what other well-known alchemists could they send that Kartos might have even heard of?"

"And here I thought Franz was just trying to keep you two out of official business in Central," Tore quipped.

"Is there anything going on in Central we'd want to stick our noses in?" Ed asked curiously. He certainly hadn't heard of anything lately that made him want to storm back into Headquarters and do anything about it. He had been retired for twenty years.

"Nothing you didn't start." Tore leaned back, settling into a more comfortable looking position. "This is the most interesting thing that's come across my desk in months outside of the usual run-of-the-mill chaos that is the State Alchemy branch."

Ed gave a short, barking laugh. "Still blaming me for everything are they?"

"Blame, credit, it's all about the same at this point," Al shrugged. "They'll all be singing a fictional version of history when Ian's movie comes out anyway."

"How is that coming?" Ed asked, curiously. He hadn't had a chance to swing by the set during his brief time in Central, but he hoped to on the way back, if filming wasn't done by then.

"I can't imagine it's accurate. I think half of that story's still classified." Will pulled a bottle of soda out of his bag and popped it open.

"Not as much as you'd think." Al's comment surprised Ed. "I mean, most of it takes place after our _triumphant return_ , other than a few critical flashbacks to our hunt for the philosopher's stone. So it's about our early _escapades_ as new Generals and war heroes. Your steamy romance with Winry," he added, winking, "and a few other adventures. It's all shortened of course. Jumping time is a wonderful thing, but it does keep to the basic truth in most places. The writers did a good job."

"Who wrote it?" Ed asked. "We might want to consider them for biographers if they make us look good."

"Pretty sure they'd have to lie to do that," Tore snickered.

"Depends on how you feel about risk takers who don't know when to give up."

"Given I'm the only one of us with a _respectable_ upbringing," Will chimed in, "I'd say you all fit in that category. But seeing as you've all been military brass, people must like you. They keep promoting you."

"And sending us off on missions where we could've been killed," Ed objected, though it was all in good fun.

"I'm pretty sure we insisted on most of those," Al replied.

Ed shrugged. "Fair enough." He glanced over at Will. "A drink sounds good. Did you bring enough for the rest of us or do I need to send an errand boy down to the dining car?"

"And which one of us would be the errand boy?" Will laughed as he reached into his bag, bringing out three more colas and handing them over.

"Tore, of course." Ed grinned and opened his drink. "He's the youngest."

"But Will's the lowest ranked," Tore pointed out. "The only reason he's even got rank at all is because he joined up for the Drachman campaign."

"Fair enough." Ed grinned. "We'll just send you both." He held up a hand, forestalling the beginning of two loud objections. "My treat."

Tore was on his feet in a moment. "Well, why didn't you say so? I'm famished."

Ed and Al exchanged amused looks as Tore and Will took Ed's cash and left the berth. This was going to be a fun trip.


	5. Part 1-5 - Spring-Summer '86

**June 7** **th** **, 1986**

Alphonse knew they were in for a treat the moment the ruins came into view. They were familiar, and not because they looked like something he had seen once, more than a world away.

The stone structures still standing were more than a little reminiscent of Stonehenge in Al's mind: nearly the same size, but the stones were more evenly carved, and intricately engraved with a riot of patterns and designs that he would bet included writing. The stone was a slightly bluer hue than the old English stones as well.

About half of the circle of stones was still standing. Several lay about, deeply imbedded in the dirt, and just beyond the circle was a dig site near what looked to be the remains of a few old stone and marble buildings. There were at least a dozen archaeologists, geologists, and surveyors bustling all over the place, hard at work.

The eagerness to get his hands in the dirt practically radiated off Will next to him, and Al smiled. This was his son's element.

And his granddaughter's. Minxia stood out, even wearing the same muted browns as most of the crew, and her cheek smudged with dirt as she appeared from around the stone. That radiant face, and her rich dark hair up in a thick braid. She approached them with a large smile on her face and her arms outstretched. "You're here!" She hugged her father first, then Al, then Edward. "What do you think of our little paradise?"

"I can see why you're concerned about preserving it," Will said.

"It's beautiful." Al agreed.

"Have you been able to translate any of the ancient text?" Ed asked. That was Ed, all about alchemy.

Minxia chuckled. "Only a few of the clearer phrases. We've taken rubbings of all the stones, and we've got a team working on it. That's why you're here, of course," she took all of them in with her gaze. "We need experts."

"And back up," Thrakos said as he joined them. He was even dustier than Minxia, and if Al hadn't known he was the son of the President of Creta, it wouldn't have been obvious, down here in the dirt with everyone else, though there was a bearing about him that belied society training. More of it though, was his own natural charisma and confidence, and the protectiveness that he had regarding his wife. He never stopped her from doing anything, but he followed her everywhere to pull her out of trouble if -and when- it inevitably happened. He shook each of their hands in turn. "You wouldn't believe the assholes trying to tear this place down."

"Sure we would," Ed quipped. "Dealing with assholes is our specialty."

"Well, right now, I'd rather you take a look at our translation work, and the writing on these stones. I'm hoping you will be able to figure out something we can't that will help prove that this site is special enough to preserve."

"We can talk politics later," Thrakos agreed, though he looked impatient. Al knew that the negotiations between him and the representative of the Kartosian government wasn't going well. This official Amestrian delegation would hopefully help settle that.

"We'll handle it" Tore promised with a nod.

Minxia led them through the site, and Al knew the others found it as hard as he did to resist stopping to look at every marking on every stone. There would be plenty of time to inspect it to their heart's delight later. Besides, Minxia's team had been here for weeks. They had already done the basic work of compiling raw data and images, and inspecting artifacts, to see what was there.

The heart of the camp turned out to be a large faded blue canvas military-style tent pitched on the edge of the ruins. There was activity inside here too, though it was the quieter intensity of brains at work. Only one or two people looked up as the entered. Apparently they weren't recognized-or weren't all that interesting-because they went right back to looking at the artifacts in front of them.

"Here's what we've got so far," Minxia gestured expansively at papers spread out across a huge table, weighed down mostly by small artifacts or regular rocks being used as paper weights. She gave the work a thoughtful look, then reached for a stack of papers. "Honey, I'm thirsty."

"On it," Thrakos kissed her cheek and practically vanished out the door.

Minxia turned to them and held out the sheets in her hands. "Here is the complication of everything we've identified as a letter, a word, an important symbol or motif. And," she smiled, "anything that looks like it might be related to alchemy. You'll find those on the last page."

Al resisted the urge to flip straight to the last page. Instead, he started with the first page. The markings were definitely interesting. They looked not unlike Norse Runes, but they weren't quite the same. Al smiled. He and Ed might be a lot of use here. Though their linguists had already pieced together quite a bit. Several words had been identified, and others had tentative definitions based on context. They also had a copy of a dictionary of the old Kartosian language, which had identified all the common words, which were only slightly different, so mostly what was missing were the very site specific terms. Al suspected a lot of what they were looking at had to do with whatever work the folks who lived here had done, particularly involving the purpose of the stones themselves.

While they all had their noses in the notes, Thrakos returned with a glass of water, and a plate holding a sandwich. "Thought you might want this too," he whispered as he set both down on the table next to Minxia's elbow.

"Is that roast beef and sour cabbage?" Minxia asked.

"What else? Oh, and soy sauce."

"Love you."

Al pretended not to watch them as they kissed, and Thrakos sat down next to her, one hand lingering on her shoulder as they waited for everyone to finish looking at the data. They had always been unafraid of being affectionate in public, but this was attentive, even for Thrakos. A suspicion wiggled in his brain, but he didn't say anything.  
He wasn't the only one watching apparently, because Will was giving the sandwich an openly funny look as his daughter took a bite.

Minxia noticed, and she met her father's expression with an even gaze, though she looked amused. "Something you'd like to say, Daddy?"  
Al knew that expression. He'd seen it before. Thrakos looked a little uneasy. He'd seen that expression before too, and he'd put even money on it that his hunch was correct.

After a moment, Will spoke. "Does your mother know?"

"Not yet. I thought I'd call her after I got to tell you in person. We didn't know until the day after you got on the train."

Will's face broke into a broad smile. "Well you'd better call her today. If she thinks I knew and didn't call her immediately she'll kill us both."

The couple relaxed, and Al wondered if they had expected anything other than happiness at the revelation that they were expecting their first baby. Of course, they _were_ temporarily living in what currently amounted to a tent city on not-entirely-friendly ground that was in some dispute.

"I'll do that," Minxia promised, then gestured at the papers. "So, what do you think?"

"I think…. You've found a transmutation circle," Ed cut in without giving anyone else time to take a breath. "Look at this," he held out his sheets, which already had scribblings all over them. "This symbol here, it means sun. This one, the moon. This one water, and this one … well it actually translates to soil."

"That was fast." Al leaned over and looked at Ed's notes, immediately seeing why Ed had no trouble translating what was on the page. Aside from the semi-familiar runes, the drawings looked a little like some of the markings he remembered from old Celtic carvings. The overlapping of worlds never ceased to amaze him. Similar, but not the same. Still, it gave them something to work with along with the translation attempts done so far. "Elements," he agreed. "Are all of these laid out exactly how they're drawn on your notes?"

Minxia nodded, eyes bright with excitement. "They are. Each one is carved on the top headstone of one of the large archways."

"At the top?" Ed looked startled. "Interesting. So they're not on the ground."

Thrakos shook his head. "No, though they're definitely four points on the compass. There are other symbols on the single pillars on the counter-points," he tapped four singular pillars sketched out between the larger tri-stoned arches. Each of them has this symbol."

Al looked at the one Thrakos' finger rested beside, a triskelion. Well that was simple enough to recognize, but Al knew that was a symbol with a dozen different meanings. Whatever it meant here, it wasn't immediately obvious. "Does anything connect them on the ground?"

"Not now," Minxia commented, clearly frustrated. "Whatever lines connected them must have been drawn, or laid out in something other than stone."

"Or maybe you haven't unearthed them yet," Will soothed, looking intently at his own copy of her notes.

Ed, however, looked excited. "Or… maybe they weren't physically connected."

"How could it be a transmutation circle if it's not physically connected?" Now Thrakos – not an alchemist- looked lost.

Al and Tore caught on at almost the same moment as "The dragon's pulse!" came out of both of their mouths.

Ed chuckled, Will grinned, and Minxia's eyes brightened.

"Would someone please explain for the non-alchemist in the room."

"Sorry, honey." Minxia smiled at her husband. "Xingese Alkahestrists use circles, but they can connect circles with alchemical energy, even at distance. It's possible that this circle is made up of points, and the alchemist was what connected them."

"It would require a very powerful alchemist with a great deal of control," Ed nodded. "Though not necessarily finesse. When can we see this in person?"

"Tomorrow," Minxia looked apologetic. "We've got a lot of folks doing some delicate work there right now. They're a little-"

"Persnickety? Possessive? Anal?" Will smiled. "Say no more. We understand completely."

Minxia relaxed. "Though, in the meantime, there's some fabulous old house foundations just to the West that are fully excavated that I think you'd enjoy." She wolfed down the last bites of her sandwich.

"Sounds great."

Al stood with the rest of them, eager to be outside and looking around. He just hoped that they could actually do some good while they were here.

* * *

Ed thought it was telling that Thrakos invited them all into "the office" after the dig site had closed down for the day, dinner had been eaten, and Minxia was asleep in their –admittedly very nice— tent-away-from-home.

Under faded blue canvas, Thrakos had set up a ring of what were probably the most comfortable portable chairs in camp, and served them all up cups of something sweet.  
"Kartosian honey wine," Thrakos grinned as he handed out the cups. "Local vintage."

Ed sniffed it and took a tasting sip. _Mead._ He glanced at Al, who nodded. He recognized it too. "So, are you going to fill us in on the political situation or did you just invite us in for drinks?"

"By the time I finish outlining the situation you'll want those, trust me." Thrakos sighed as he dropped heavily into one of the vacant chairs with the careless ease of a man who was young and unbroken. Ed's bones were envious. "Though I should start with the good. The government of Creta extends their formal thanks in advance, for your willingness to come out and be a… mostly impartial party in this matter."

"As impartial as we can be." Tore grinned. "Given the relations involved that we won't be advertising to the Kartosians."

"Right." Thrakos glanced at Will. "You won't mind if I don't call you _Dad_ while you're here, right?"

"I will contain my disappointment," Will assured him with a nod.

"I'd also appreciate it if you don't talk about Minx's… situation, around the people we'll be meeting with. They already think she's not a _real_ archeologist because she's a woman." His tone dripped disgust with the people who had dared to say something like that about his wife.

"Do the archaeologists feel this way?" Will scowled.

"No, no," Thrakos shook his head. "In the profession, even here, she's something of a legend." He smiled. "Certainly with the Cretans. Her work is too well known. If any of

the Kartosians felt that way when we arrived, they see her as a colleague now and they never said anything." He took a long, slow drink. "It's the politicians and lawyers that are problematic."

"Lawyers?" Ed didn't like the sound of that. "I thought this was a diplomatic issue."

"It's complicated."

"So we see." Tore looked thoughtful. "Why don't you brief us on the full situation?"

Thrakos nodded. "On the Kartosian side of things, there are a few factors. First, there's the gentleman who technically owns the land we're digging on; Tyne Vennson. The land sat here for years before he recently bought it from the government. Until then, it was mostly undisturbed until the discovery of this site six months ago while some surveyors were looking the land over for sale. There was apparently some fuzzy period in the middle while the sale to Vennson was going through, and the dig got started, but Vennson wants to build up this entire area with what amounts to middle-class condominiums."

Apartment complexes on this ancient ground; now that would be a waste.

"Who else is involved?" Tore prompted.

"Well, since the original dig order was approved by the government, Vennson has to get them to suspend that approval before he can officially kick us off the land.

Something about Kartosian politics and land laws. I can't say as I completely understand it. I actually got a copy, but they're in Kartosian, and mine is… mediocre at best." His frown deepened. "They haven't yet, but they've said they don't really have a reason not to. Unless the site proves to be something more than _yet another useless ruin_ —their words exactly—than they'll do it. So you've got Vennson, government officials, and lawyers."

"And on our side?" Ed prompted.

Thrakos seemed to like the phrase _our side._ "The archaeologists from both countries… you, me, Rio Vinaro—our international law expert—and a group of… historical enthusiasts who have been protesting Vennson's plans, calling them _a travesty and destruction of their religious heritage._ "

"So, these Kartosians still practice the ancient religion?" Ed hadn't thought there was anyone left who still worshipped a polytheistic pantheon.

"They claim to." Thrakos shrugged. "They're sort of… odd, as a group. They like old ways, and nature, and would probably live out here in tents or huts or something if they wouldn't be trespassing. They're on our side, and they haven't tried to destroy anything, so no one has really bothered them. Vennson doesn't like them though."

"Which is enough reason for us to." Ed reasoned. They sounded not unlike the strange group of followers that had sprung up around Krista's father's stories of another world. Weird folks, but otherwise harmless. "They might even be useful," he mused. "Do you think they know anything about their old ways that might be useful to our investigations?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Thrakos admitted, running a hand tiredly through his dark hair, which Ed had noticed was more mussed than he was used to. "I haven't had a chance to really speak to any of them. They've been good about staying out of the dig site."

"Would it be political sabotage to invite a couple of them in to see the place?" Ed asked.

"Not if we're circumspect about it." Thrakos shook his head. "As long as we're not seen doing it, and approach the right people."

"Any idea who those might be?" Al asked.

"I'll ask Redulf," Thrakos replied. "He's the head archaeologist's assistant, and he grew up around here, so he knows a lot of the people in the group. He'll know who we can trust to be circumspect, and who might be useful."

"That's a start." Tore nodded. "We should make use of every available source of information and potential ally. So, as I see it, what we need to do is prove to the government of Kartos that this site is too valuable to the country to let the land be developed by Vennson."

"That's about the size of it." Thrakos nodded. "They're odd about their history in Kartos. At least, from a Cretan standpoint," he acknowledged. "In Creta, every ancient site is a prized and cherished piece of history. We'll go out of our way to build around ancient treasures and preserve everything. The Kartosians seem to be extremely proud of their heritage and history, but they don't care much what happens to most of these old sites. I mean, their original palace in the capital is a museum now, and there are several historical monuments, but they had a very violent history, and a lot of their original sites just don't exist. So something rare and permanent like this, you'd think would be special enough on its own."

"Instead, they only care if it offers them something worth preserving that's worth more than another use for the land." Tore sipped his mead thoughtfully.

Ed could sort of understand that. Kartos wasn't a large country and from what little he knew of their history, they had once been a land of warring tribes, and fought fiercely with the other small ocean-bordering countries north of them, that also ran up along the Drachman border. The fact that they had managed to keep Drachma from ever overrunning them spoke of their stubbornness as much as it had to acknowledge the huge mountain range that separated them. The few passes through to the ocean this far south came through Kartos, which had once made it a valuable target for Drachma. "So we find something new and exciting. Given what we saw just from what you showed us today, that shouldn't be too hard."

Thrakos did not look encouraged. "Except that they don't give much of a damn about alchemy. They're a superstitious lot, but proof of the powers of the gods, or some kind of sacred status would be more useful than anything even remotely provable by alchemy or other sciences."

"Do they have a favorite god?" Ed asked flippantly.

"They have a few," Thrakos replied. "While they don't all actively worship them all anymore, many of them still keep on respecting them, and following certain rituals, just in case they're wrong. The head of their pantheon is a powerful god who controls the forces of nature. He's particularly known for communicating his displeasure through storms and lightning. You know, things that sink ships and burn down simple wood structures."

"A lightning god?" Ed glanced over at Tore. "What do you make of that, Shock?"

Tore chuckled, but didn't appear surprised. "I'm not pretending to be a god."

"I didn't say you should. But let's see if we can find a way your particular talents might be used to our advantage in this situation."

At that, Thrakos barked a tired laugh. "I want to see that. I wish we could just run them off with a nicely convenient lightning storm."

"That… might just be possible." Tore was grinning. "At least, we should consider keeping that in our pockets in case nothing else works."

Al nodded. "Scaring them into thinking their gods are particularly attached to this spot could be advantageous."

"How the hell did Uncle Franz think you three should be the _neutral diplomats_ on this mission?" Will asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Who said anything about diplomacy?" Ed snickered. "Al and I are here as alchemy experts and historical researchers. We know more about this kind of thing than just about anyone, and even though that's _not_ as true as people think it is, their believe is what matters. That, and we are singularly fitted for this kind of task, and famous." _Let's not forget famous._ Ed knew full well that their names and reputations were as useful here as their knowledge of ancient cultures and their problem solving abilities. "Tore is the one who has to moderate this issue. Kartos agreed to let Amestris be the third party decision maker and to allow us to look the site over to see if its actually worth anything. If this location turns out to be as important as it looks like it might, than it's our duty to protect it."

Will shook his head, but he smiled, his Elric blood showing. "That's what we do, isn't it? Protect antiquities from the perverseness of men?"

"I like that," Thrakos commented, finally smiling as he saluted his father-in-law with his mug. "We should make sure to use that in negotiations."

"Anything I can do to help the cause." Will chuckled.

"You know," Al commented as the room quieted. "It's possible that there's a middle road in all this. If what is important about this site turns out to be the artifacts, perhaps the government will allow you to finish the dig, then remove the important items to safer locations for further study. The land itself, once it has yielded what it's going to, might not need to be preserved from building on it. Then Vennson could build when you're finished and everyone wins."

"It's worth considering," Thrakos admitted reluctantly. "Though you might have trouble convincing our local protestors of that fact. They seem to think the land itself here is sacred."

Ed nodded and sipped his mead. "Then _that_ is something we will definitely need to discover." And quickly. While he expected to be here for some time, the sooner they had useful evidence, the better.

* * *

They talked for a couple of hours before the meeting finally broke up. There were, after all, only so many what-ifs and possibilities that could be bandied about before no further action could be taken without actually speaking with people outside the conversation. Besides which, none of them—with the exception of Thrakos—were young enough to make an all-nighter of even the best conversation. Still, when his father, Uncle Ed, and Tore Closson headed out of the tent, Will hung behind for a moment, ostensibly to help his son-in-law clean up the drinks so there was no mess in the morning.

"You don't have to help," Thrakos insisted as he put the cups on the washboard by a portable sink.

"Oh I don't doubt you know how to wash dishes," Will smiled. "But if you pass out an d drown in the sink, I don't think my daughter would forgive me."

"I look that bad, do I?" Thrakos shook his head, but shrugged as he rinsed the cups anyway. "Minx is the tired one."

"How long do you plan to stay out here?" Will asked neutrally. He really didn't have a strong feeling one way or the other about his daughter working an archaeological site while pregnant. After all, he and Ren had spent most of her pregnancy with Minxia traveling and doing research themselves. That didn't mean his son-in-law felt the same way.

Thrakos looked uncomfortable for a moment, before he sighed heavily. "There's no way I could pry Minx out of here with a crow-bar and possibly wrestling her to the ground and dragging her off before we get this mess with the Kartosian government and Vennson settled. She's got her heart set on saving this place."

"And how do you feel about it?"

" _I_ would like to not be disowned by my mother by making her travel out into the middle of the dirt and sticks to see her first grandchild." Thrakos finished rinsing the last cup and turned off the water. "I'd also like a little time for us to get our place ready and _enjoy_ it. I think I care more about everything we need to do back home than my wife does… is that weird?"

"If it were some other woman, maybe." Will chuckled. "But you're talking about a girl whose dolls wore dirt more than they wore fashionable clothes. Also, you've got plenty of time. I seriously doubt it's going to take us several _months_ to finish negotiations." If it did, Ren might kill _him._ "I know you two don't want everyone around here to know yet, but they're going to figure it out. Especially if Minxia's already tired."

"And hungry." Thrakos nodded. "Thankfully she hasn't been nauseous yet. Though the doctor we saw in town said not to expect that to last. I think Minx is hoping she won't have to deal with that though. She's already frustrated at getting tired out early. It means she doesn't get as much work done as she wants to… even if she does leave the rest of us in the dust."

"Pun intended?"

Thrakos paused, then chuckled. "Sure. We'll go with that." He shook his head bemusedly. "If you can help get this mess worked out quickly, I'd be immensely grateful. We haven't even told my parents about the baby yet. I know my mother will worry. She probably won't say anything, but she'll want us home, where she can help us get everything ready and fuss over Minx and her first grandchild."

Will let his son-in-law talk. It was clear that he'd had a lot on his mind, and hadn't wanted to burden Minxia with it. Or perhaps Minx already knew all this, and Thrakos just needed to vent. "It sounds like you'd be okay with that," he commented during a pause.

Thrakos looked guilty. "I promised myself I'd never get in the way of Minxia's work. It's what she loves, and I knew that marrying her would mean travelling all over the world, for months at a time; that this was the life I could expect. I'd travel to any corner of the world for her."

"Which you've certainly done."

"And yet I feel guilty wanting her to come home. Not forever… just a little while."

Will followed Thrakos as he moved towards the tent door. "Don't. You have perfectly valid reasons to be concerned, and to want to protect your family. It's what we do." He smiled. These were fears he remembered well, despite the choices he and Ren had made at the time, and his own research obsessions. "Does Minx know how you feel?"

"Probably." Thrakos nodded as they stepped out into the darkness. "She has a way of guessing what I'm thinking without my having to say a word."

"Ren is like that."

"Did she eat weird things too?"

Will was glad his wife was not around to hear his response, or watch Thrakos wince. "If today's lunch was any indication, you haven't seen anything yet."


	6. Part 1-6 - Spring-Summer '86

**June 8** **th** **, 1986**

"This may be the strangest thing I have ever done," Gracia Hughes commented as she stood there, watching the group of people who had descended upon the kitchen with photography equipment.

"Oh I'm pretty sure there have been stranger," Elicia chuckled as she stood beside her, watching the chaos.

"But I didn't necessarily do them," Gracia pointed out. She still wasn't entirely certain what had possessed her when she took Alphonse's suggestion that she should publish a cookbook seriously. Yet when she had submitted a manuscript of her favorite recipes to a publisher—the same general company that also published Edward's fictional adventures—their cooking department had been enthralled and sent representatives to taste her recipes and things had just sort of gone on from there.

Now two photographers—one of whom was Callie Elric—were manipulating the light and angles in their kitchen to take pictures of several of her recipes for the cookbook. One of which would end up as the cover. So, naturally, she had made several of her best looking dishes today: her apple pie, her quiche, and her multi-layer chocolate raspberry torte that was one of Alphonse's favorites.

"At least we won't need to cook this week." Elicia seemed to be enjoying watching as much as she had enjoyed cooking with Gracia all day so they could do this shoot with the food at its freshest. "You know, if this sells well, they could ask you to do a cooking show."

That was another thing Gracia had trouble adjusting to, the wide variety of things a person could now watch on television. Though she had to admit, she had gotten several fun new ideas from watching the two cooking programs currently on the regular network in the afternoons. "I don't know about that," she replied. "It might be fun, but it seems like an awful lot of work. Besides, who would watch a ninety-nine year old woman standing around in a kitchen?"

"Anyone who knows she's making great food?" Elicia shrugged. "Certainly everyone in our family. I imagine it would be an immensely popular show."

"Let's just see how the book sells." Gracia shook her head. "I never realized how complicated it is to take pictures of food."

"It's definitely its own style," Callie commented as she stepped back from her camera. Her partner, Travis Lyon, made a minor adjustment to the angle of the pie. "You always want the food to be seen at an angle that not only captures its deliciousness, but the color, the freshness. Liquids should catch the light. The crust should appear at its most flaky, warm, and delicious. Anyone looking at the book should want to take a bite of what they're looking at, as if it's right in front of them."

Gracia was glad that Edward and Winry's youngest granddaughter was starting to have success in the field she really wanted to be in, which was photography. Clearly, her courses were paying off, since on top of working at Silverman's, she had landed this part-time job as a photographer for the publishing company. "As long as they don't bite the book," she teased gently.

"Little chance of that," Travis, a tall, good-looking dark-haired young man, grinned widely. "Though if they could smell your cooking through the book, then there might be a problem. These are exquisite."

"Well, when you finish taking pictures of them, you'd better stay long enough to taste them," Gracia insisted. She would not have people come over and _not_ eat food she had prepared.

"You bet we will," Callie replied enthusiastically. "Our shoot this morning ran right through lunch."

"You haven't eaten? You should have said something," Gracia scolded. "I could have whipped up something for you to eat while you work!"

Travis laughed. "It's all right, Mrs. Hughes. You've done quite enough work today. We couldn't impose."

"Cooking is not work." Gracia shook her head. "It's one of my greatest pleasures. You certainly need to eat."

"One of my greatest pleasures," Travis admitted, though his cheeks flushed slightly.

Callie repressed a giggle, though Gracia saw it past Travis's shoulder.

"As it should be." He was as tall and thin as Maes had been. She suspected at his age he probably still needed to eat quite a bit. "You'll be staying for dinner. That's that."

Travis looked like he wanted to object, but Callie had already jumped on it. "Absolutely!"

"I'll set two more places at the table." Elicia winked and turned to the dish cabinet.

Travis looked startled, and then seemed to realize he was outnumbered. He smiled. "Yes ma'am."

* * *

One of the decisions they had made the night before was that it should be Edward and Alphonse who went to speak to the group of historical traditionalists that had been peacefully protesting the destruction of the site. Since they weren't officially _with_ any government, it was the least political option.

Not that they went alone. The archaeologist, who lived locally, Redulf, had been happy to go as an intermediary when Thrakos suggested it. Someone needed to speak the local language. Though this close to the Kartosian-Cretan border, most everyone was reasonably bi-lingual, so Ed and Al should be able to get by speaking Cretan.

At least, Alphonse certainly hoped so. His Cretan was fluent, but he knew next to no Kartosian. Though, having seen the similarities with ancient and existing Norse languages from the other side of the gate, he suspected he might be able to piece it together given a little time. He was grateful to have a translator along who was also on good terms with the people they were going to see.

Redulf had set up the meeting. They went into town after dinner, but before the sun was fully down. The summer sunlight was nice that way. It was a pretty walk, and Alphonse couldn't help admiring the scenery, with the mountains to the East and North, and the flatter plains reaching out towards the ocean out-of-sight to the West.

"So, who are we meeting?"

Ed's question brought Al back to the men walking beside him.

Redulf -a tall, solid-built red headed man at least half their age—grinned. "A couple of friends of mine— Hildar and Elinor Ulfarn—they're married. They're also very passionate about our little historical project. I think you'll find what they have to say very interesting." His Cretan was good, thankfully.

"Hopefully, they'll find what we have to say interesting." Al had to stretch a little to keep up with Redulf's long strides.

"They're excited about it," Redulf assured them. "I hope you don't mind meeting in the pub."

"Not if you don't think it's too public," Ed replied, somehow managing to look like he wasn't struggling even more than Al to keep up.

"Actually, it being public will make it look less suspicious," Redulf admitted. "We're a direct people. As long as you're talking in a public place, no one will spread rumors about whether or not you're talking. It settles that you aren't hiding anything, even if they can't hear what you say."

That was useful information. "So they won't think it's weird if anyone sees them coming to the dig site."

"Given they're trying to save it, not at all." Redulf shrugged. "You're both famous alchemists and antiquarians."

"And antiques," Ed quipped, grinning.

Redulf laughed. "I _was_ going to say legends. The perception around here isn't your relation to the Argyros', or even the diplomat from Amestris' government. It makes sense that you would be interested in the local stories and history, and they _are_ the best source in the area outside of those of us working the dig."

It was interesting to hear Minxia and Thrakos referred to together, even as long as they had been married. It struck Al that it was easier for them to seem distant from this whole thing, when no one in Kartos likely thought of Minxia as an Elric.

The town of Valnik appeared ahead of them, nestled in the low foothills of the mountain range, the lights sparkling away against the dark backdrop of dusky mountains, still topped with snow, even in the summer, while the weather down below was pleasantly cool, but not quite chilly.

"I can see why you like living here," Al commented. "It's lovely."

"Very scenic," Edward agreed, though he rubbed his auto-mail shoulder absently as they paused at the first cross-street to wait for a car to pass. "Great weather for summer."

Al understood. It was just chill enough he suspected Ed's shoulder was aching. Over the years his complaints had gotten less frequent and more subtle.

Redulf didn't seem to notice. He grinned. "You should see it in the winter under three feet of snow. Everything glistens."  
Al grinned. "We'll take your word for it."

After another few minutes, they arrived at the pub in question, a little place appropriately named the _Mug and a Slice_ , with a hand painted sign of a stein and a slice of pie that looked like it might have been hanging there for at least a couple hundred years, even though the paint was fresh.

The crowd inside was the type Al would have expected to see on a Monday night after dinner: adults, mostly working-class, many single or out with friends, lingering over their meals for drinks but no one was loudly drunk. There was a low buzz of conversation, and music playing in the background was a low easy jazzy instrumental that could have been Amestrian, save for subtle differences in the balance of instruments and rhythms that hinted back to old Kartosian music. It wasn't large, and slightly cramped, mostly dark wood, but clean. The smell of the food was tempting as well. Al had already eaten, but he began to contemplate if they had a dessert menu after the brisk walk into town.

Ed nodded approvingly. "So, who are our new friends?"

Redulf scanned the room. "This way." He led them through the crowd to a table against one wall. It wasn't in a corner, but it was one of the few big enough to hold five people.

The couple at the table looked perfectly nice, middle-aged—maybe in their forties—and not at all out of place. The man was large, solidly built, with a thick mane of red hair and a short-cropped beard. The woman had long, loosely curly dark blond hair and wore thin-rimmed glasses.

They smiled warmly as the man—Hildar, Al put the name to him—gestured for them to sit. "Please, join us," he said in accented but perfectly understandable Cretan. "Order whatever you'd like, on me."

"I like this place already," Ed grinned as he sat down, shaking hands with both Hildar, then Elinor. Al did the same. Redulf took the remaining seat beside Elinor.

Al just shook his head as Ed looked at the menu, though he looked himself as Redulf waved over a waitress and ordered mead and an almond-rice pudding. Curious, Al ordered the same. Ed ordered hot tea and two desserts: a rolled dessert pastry stuffed with sweet potatoes, and a slice of spiced cake.

Apparently, it was traditional not to discuss business before hospitality, because Redulf and Hildar struck up a conversation about the day's work that was entirely mundane in nature. As it turned out, when he wasn't picketing, Hildar owned a shop in town that sold traditional woolen clothing, made from sheep—and a small herd of Aerugean alpacas—that were part of a farming community just outside of town. His wife, Elinor, dyed and spun wool, and also wove fabric in traditional Kartosian patterns that remained popular among most crowds.

"They also export well, lately," she admitted with a bright smile as she stirred her coffee. "Bright patterns are popular with some of the younger generation in Creta…and Drachma," she admitted a little more shyly.

"If the sweater you're wearing is an example of your work, I think they'd do well in Amestris," Al complimented the light-on-dark green sweater Elinor wore in a pattern that looked almost like the runic forms Al had seen on the dig site. What she was wearing was also extremely finely woven, and he might have mistaken it for cotton if he hadn't spent years living with his quilt-and-fiber-arts fanatic wife and mother-in-law. He made a note to stop by their shop before he left. He could think of many family members who might enjoy locally made specialty wool items as presents.

The food and drinks arrived, and conversation was scattered between moments of quiet delight in the desserts. Other than the general exclamation of enjoyment, nothing serious was discussed until plates were empty and drinks, if not finished, at least lower.

"Redulf here tells us you're interested in the gods," Hildar said, setting his mead cup down on the table.

"That's right," Al said quickly before Ed could object. His brother, whose mouth was half open, closed it and nodded agreement, letting Al take the lead. "Anything you can tell us would help with the research and translation going on, especially since we aren't experts on your theology."

Elinor and Hildar both chuckled. "We would not expect you to be," Elinor assured him. "There is a particular story of which those who believe are particularly fond, because it explains why this area is sacred to Taor himself."

"The lightning god."

"I see you've been studying." She smiled. "Yes. There used to be a sacred place dedicated to Taor somewhere in this part of the country. That is why the town here, actually. The story goes that long ago, when the world was new, Taor and Naruf, god of the sea, had a disagreement. They could not agree over whose domain was stronger and more useful to the people who had begun to appear on the earth. They quarreled for a long time, and the storms they created out at sea were terrible. In fact, they were so fierce that the people began to fear the water, and avoided sailing on it. This only made Naruf madder, and he made the water rise, and the people moved their villages inland to avoid being washed away, and they feared him. And they worshipped him. This pleased him, but it displeased Taor, who was proud, but also hated to see the people suffer."

"So Taor made a deal with Naruf. They would stop fighting, and see what the people did. He told Naruf they would love Naruf more, not just fear him, if he allowed them to return to fishing his waters for food, and traveling the sea-roads. Naruf agreed, though he thought it was some kind of trick."

Al sipped his drink, listening in rapt attention. Elinor had a very pleasant, quiet alto voice that had the perfect lilt for storytelling.

"Yet Naruf preferred to be worshipped with love over fear as well, and he relented. For a season, the people feared, but without the storms, they felt the favor of the gods had returned to them, and their prayers had been answered. They took to fishing once more, and traveling the ways of the water for trade, and following the routes of sea creatures they needed for food, and for medicines. The water was calm, and the skies were clear. Both gods were keeping their promise, and the people prospered. Yet Naruf was not satisfied, as is his wild nature, for both gods were receiving equal gratitude. He had been certain that he would be given more credit for calming the waves, and providing the ways, and the animals that they needed; that his contributions and gifts were more than Taor, who _simply_ kept the rain from falling."

She paused, sipping from her coffee.

"What happened?" Ed asked impatiently.

"Let her drink," Al chuckled.

Their hosts didn't seem to find Ed's impatience rude.

Elinor's grin made it clear she was enjoying adding to the tension by holding off the climax of the story. She took another long, slow sip, then set down her cup. "Eventually, Naruf decided that he had been tricked after all and one day, when the young king Tyn and his men were sailing out to the island that was their best fishing spot, Naruf whipped up the oceans and tried to capsize the boats and drown the men. Taor, who had always felt Tyn was one of his favorites, could not allow it to happen. So he whipped up the rain, a storm such as he never had before, with winds that pushed the boat back towards the shore, and held it up when it seemed about to capsize. Tyn, known even then as one of the finest sailors of all the tribes of the lands of the coast, tried to guide his men back towards the shore, but even they had lost sight of anything that might mark their location in the seas, which was because they had already been driven far from familiar waters."

"So Taor did the only thing he could to guide Tyn to land, and struck the sands with a blast of lightning so bright and hot that is scorched the land to glass. Tyn saw the strike, and the smoke from the trees that went up on the shore, and knew where to steer his men. In the end, Taor's assistance and believe in the abilities of the men won out over Naruf's sea, and Tyn's men found land. Far from home, the first thing they did was built an alter to Taor on the stretch of glass, and cook an offering of fish and place it upon the rock. Naruf had lost, and in his shame, he acknowledged it to Taor. The seas calmed, and never again did they rage as they had that day."

For a moment, silence hung around them, and Alphonse realized that the room was nearly empty now, and half the people around them had been listening to the tale. Several nodded approvingly. The old men in the corner smiled and went back to their drinks. The ambient chatter returned.

"I tell her she should have been a skald," Hildar grinned proudly.

Elinor shrugged. "I enjoy my work." She turned her attention back to Ed and Al. "You can see, I think, why this place is so important to those of us who still follow the traditional ways of our people. We have believed, for a long time, that the glass altar exists somewhere along our shores. But many sites have been found and destroyed, none with the floor of glass. The sands have shifted so over the centuries, that there is little way to know. The discovery of this site has excited us all. It is the last place left the alter could be." Her smile lessened. "We know that nothing matching its description has been found so far, but over the ages, many sites were built up or destroyed. Today, our people's transient nature holds little respect for what is old, and prefers what is new or profitable. This place, it stirs the soul, and the imagination. We will do anything we can to see it protected… well, almost anything. We are not the violent race we once were."

"Too bad," Ed quipped over the rim of his drink. "I could teach you a few moves."

"Edward." Al shook his head. "Thank you," he said to Elinor. "Tell me, would you like to see the site for yourself?"

The couples' eyes lit up. "Could we?" Hildar asked.

Al nodded. "We'd really appreciate your thoughts on what has been found so far. Archaeologists and alchemists many know a lot, but often we see what we expect to see, and may not have the point of view to pick up on others. You may see things we have missed."

"I like your friends, Redulf," Hildar grinned. "They speak sense. We'd love to come. When would you like us?"

Perfect. "Tomorrow, if you're available."

"We'll be there."


	7. Part 1-7 - Spring-Summer '86

**June 9** **th** **, 1986**

Tore really hoped the meeting that afternoon would go as well as the one that morning. Hildar and Elinor had been quite happy on their tour earlier, and had willingly poured over everything the archaeologists were willing to share, offering insights and confirming interpretations. They hadn't known what to make of the apparent transmutation circle either, but they had been familiar with many of the symbols. Elinor admitted she had seen several of them before, because they showed up often in the old written stories, and they were often symbolic of specific gods too. So she had woven several of them in her work dozens of times.

The fact that they also represented specific gods was useful information, as well as the possibility that they might be looking for evidence that there had ever been a blast hot enough to turn some of the sand in the area to glass. While it certainly sounded like a fairy story, Tore wouldn't dismiss out of hand the possibility of evidence of a lightning strike in sand in general, branch-like shapes of fused sand. A sheet of glass just wasn't possible. He should know, given how many things he had struck with bolts of electrical current from the sky in his life.

He didn't say that, however. It would be rude, and they were allies in the goal of saving this beautiful historical site if possible. Tore would be objective, but he really didn't want to be. He would much rather have reveled in his natural enthusiasm for the subject. Ed, Al, and Will certainly were. Minxia practically glowed with it, and he knew that wasn't because of her condition. She adored her work, and felt passionately about the places where she helped unlock their long-hidden secrets.

It had been a fulfilling and enjoyable morning, followed by a simple, tasty lunch and good conversation. Now Tore felt the subtle tension in his neck that always formed when he was placed in a position of responsibility in which he had the possibly of royally screwing things up. Not that he honestly expected anything catastrophic to happen. It was an old twitch, one that kept him from getting too cocky. He had learned caution the hard way, and he tried to listen more to the sensible voice in his head that usually—to his amusement—sounded like either Edward in his old teaching days, or Charisa, scolding him with gentle firmness. He definitely preferred it when the voice sounded like his wife.

Today the voice was telling him to stay calm, remain neutral, and do more listening than talking. This was an opportunity to make a good first impression, and perhaps start building ties that would make this situation easier to resolve.

The meeting place was at the entrance to the site. Tore stood with Thrakos and the Cretan law expert, Rio Vinaro. They had decided, after much discussion, that Ed, Al, and Will would remain at the main office tent where the larger meeting would take place. It also made the initial meeting more even, the Cretan representatives and the Kartosians, and Tore. Vennson, and the Government representative—a man whose name Tore had learned was Ainar Drakk.

They arrived separately, in two different cars that parked within a minute of each other in the small parking lot set up outside the dig. Naturally, no vehicle was allowed to drive on the site itself. Tore only knew the men by description, but he had little trouble telling them apart. Ainar Drakk, was an older gentleman, tall and lean, for a Kartosian. They were all taller than Tore, but most of them had a solid build, as Tore would expect from the Armstrong family. This man was thinner. His hair was thick and white, and his goatee trimmed close to his face instead of the shaggier beard that seemed to be the fashion.

The man beside him was far less impressive, at least in Tore's mind. He was on the short side for a Kartosian—which still made him at least three inches taller than Tore—but had none of the warrior bearing that so many of the others seemed to have. He was also nearly as broad in the middle as he was in the shoulders. Despite wearing a very modern, very fashionable suit, he looked to Tore a bit more like a used car salesman than a real estate investor. He was closer to Tore's age, with thick hair that was just starting to turn from gold to gray.

They approached, shaking hands with Thrakos first.

"Mr. Drakk, Mr. Vennson, good to see you again," Thrakos commented, and Tore was impressed at the younger man's ability to sound sincere. He supposed years growing up the son of the President would have given him a lot of practice. "This is General Closson, the Amestrian representative here to deliberate on our situation."

To his credit, Drakk sized him up subtly as he shook Tore's hand with a firm grasp. "On behalf of the Kartosian government, I welcome you. I do hope you can help settle this matter."

"It is my hope we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement between you," Tore replied with a reassuring smile. He hoped the neutral phrasing would make it clear Amestris was not taking an official stake in things.

Vennson didn't seem impressed, and the handshake he gave Tore was cursory at best. "I should hope so. I have a building schedule to keep."

Tore managed not to scowl. Thankfully, he didn't have a moment to respond to that because Thrakos and Vinaro cut into the discussion, escorting them all back towards the main office as they filled Drakk and Vennson in on the schedule.

Their most recent findings would be discussed at the meeting. Tore was looking forward to this, mostly because he knew that Ed and Al's recent meeting with the locals had provided background information that helped put a new light on much of the information they had been able to pull out of the dig. It was still Tore's opinion—and that of the other alchemists—that the primary use of the stone circle at the center of the sight was for alchemy, even if they didn't entirely understand how it had been done yet. That did _not_ rule out the possibility of it being a religious site. Certainly early Kartosians, particularly priests, might have been alchemists. The oldest stories spoke of powers given by the gods. To the experienced ear, it definitely sounded like most of it could be alchemy. The rest might just be hyperbole.

Not that they had said this in front of their guests and allies, who were kind enough to give them the stories of the gods. Even Edward hadn't said anything that purposefully might step on their beliefs.

Tore just hoped what they had was enough. He didn't think it would save the site, but it might buy them more time. The challenge of course was that the Kartosians didn't care much about alchemy. The reputation of the Elrics here was entirely related to their decades of experience researching antiquities.

Everything was laid out carefully when they arrived. A casual looking gathering that had actually been painstakingly prepared. The two Kartosians running their half of the dig—Tore only knew them as Ullf and Laren—sat on the other side of the table, with Minxia between them. In another situation it might have been comical, their large forms hulking over her diminutive frame. But here, right now, it was clear she was equally in charge. Ullf and Laren had purposefully leaned their chairs slightly back, giving the illusion that Minxia was in front of them. Subtle, but effective.

Edward, Alphonse, and Will sat to their right around the end of the table, leaving the other two sides open for four who had entered. It had the appearance of convenience and offering them equal footing in the seats, but in truth they had carefully determined in advance where to position their guests for best effect. No matter where Vennson sat, he was staring into the eyes of hulking men, or the Elrics.

Tore was a little amused that they chose to sit facing more towards Edward, Alphonse, and Will. If they thought that would be advantageous, they didn't know who they were dealing with.

Pleasantries were brief.

"Mr. Argyros tells me you've already got some information about this site worth looking at," Drakk got right to business.

"That we do, sir," Ullf smiled, gesturing at the carefully chosen selection of diagrams and notes spread all over the table. "I think you'll find them interesting."

Vennson snorted derisively, but said nothing as Drakk reached out and picked up the nearest diagram.

"What you're looking at," Edward explained from where he sat across the table, "is very possibly the most unique ancient site discovered in ancient times."

"How so?"

"Well I know you're not particularly interested in alchemy, but that collection of standing rocks out there appears to be not only some sort of alchemy circle, but also directly related to the god Taor. We're not entirely sure whether your ancestors were trying to communicate with him directly, or offer tribute, or recreate his massive powers, but all of the signs point clearly to Taor."

Drakk looked mildly interest. "So this connection makes this unique? There are other altars and sites that were dedicated to Taor, and all of the other gods."

"But none with these markings." Alphonse leaned over the table and placed a hand on another large sheet of paper covered with images. "They've already been compared to all of the standard markings archived and categorized by your research teams in your University." He gestured to the thick bound tome also sitting on the table, where all of those records had been previously published. "There are much, much older."

"Older?"

"Hundreds, perhaps thousands of years older than your oldest recorded site." Will nodded. "There's nothing this old in any archive in Creta, Amestris, or Xing. Certainly not regarding Kartosian sites. Your historians are very good, particularly given their limited sites." His tone made it sound as if this were simply a matter of the weathering of nature, even if Tore knew it was a subtle dig on the government and the fact that they had allowed most of their historical sites to be removed in the face of progress for centuries. It wasn't like this was a new issue.

"The simple fact," Ed stepped back into the conversation, "is that what you have here needs to be thoroughly investigated. This is a lot to uncover in the short months that this team has been working. There is a high likelihood of ties back to the original settlement of your country here, and surely that deserves a thorough investigation."

Vennson looked as if he had swallowed unpleasant, but was apparently smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut.

A shame, Tore thought. It would have been nice if Vennson had made this easy for him.

Drakk, at least, seemed inclined to hear it through. He looked at what was in his hands and nodded. "All right. Talk me through all of this."

* * *

Minxia did her best to convince herself that the twisting in her stomach was just nerves, and not the potential beginnings of her first bought of nausea. Instead, she focused on presenting an outward, calm appearance as she took over the explanation of their discoveries on the dig site, and the theories they had put together based on the markings and layout of the stones, and the supporting buildings scattered around their primary structure. There was not only the apparent temple, but several—for the time—particularly well-built standing stone structures, far different from the normally wooden homes of much of the previous Kartosian settlements. This had been built to last more than just a few generations, and had certainly been a settlement with more than just a local tribal leader.

There was, truly, plenty of reason to give credence to the local versions of the ancient tales. With a strong oral tradition, it wasn't as if they were merely hearsay. Their friends had even provided multiple published accounts for cross-referencing purposes that demonstrated that the stories themselves remained virtually unchanged through recorded Kartosian history.

For their part, her colleagues from Kartos sat behind her, looking calmly intimidating without trying to be, and making it clear that Minxia was the one in charge of this meeting. While she appreciated the backing, it also made her nervous. She had never had to fight for the continued existence of a dig location before. While she and Thrakos had pushed for funding, for preservation rights, and other things, none of the sites she had worked on in Creta, or anywhere else, had been in imminent danger of destruction. In Xing, you almost had to get a permit to sneeze on an ancient location. Creta reveled in their history and rubbed it in everyone else's faces. Even Aerugo was very protective of their heritage. Kartos was a bit of a mystery to her.

Minxia focused on the facts, highlighting what was unique and really required more time to study to determine if their ideas were verifiable. There were, already at present count, at least fifteen new symbols they had not yet identified, and nearly twenty that seemed related to but not quite the same as ancient symbols already in the Kartosian lexicon. That concentration of unusual findings alone would have been enough in any other country to render the site a protected government treasure. Here, it was one piece of the proof but might not be enough in the long run. Minxia was grateful that the stone carvings had weathered well. The originals must have been gouged unusually deep to survive this long. The stones sizes were estimated to have been a little larger, possibly multiple millimeters, originally before being worn down by the elements. As the oceans had moved, sands shifted, and waters risen and fallen, the site was now more than a mile inland from the beach, but it was clear that at one point it had been on sand almost right on the waters. At least for a time.

Minxia went through it all, in immaculate detail, hoping that Drakk was impressed. She knew that, however uninvolved he was supposed to be, Tore Closson was not disposed towards plowing down priceless artifacts. He was not likely to site with the Kartosian government—or, more importantly, Vennson—unless they somehow presented an amazing argument for putting up over-priced modern housing on the land instead. And they had to convince Drakk, because only the government had the authority to change the terms of the real estate agreement.

Finally, she ran out of anything new to add, coming to what they had determined that morning—though she didn't mention their recent guests. "So, that's where we are," she finally finished up, mouth dry from talking for nearly an hour. "We've made incredible progress, very quickly. We just need a little more time to verify if this site is what we think it is. Surely you can see how important this could be for Kartosian pride…perhaps even commerce. You don't have a huge number of historical sites. Imagine if this were turned into a museum and tour center. Build it up on the hill above the site when it's restored, let people see their fascinating heritage for themselves."

She hoped Drakk liked that idea. It seemed to appeal more to Kartosian sentiments, where were very much based in profit progress. Vennson had said very little at this meeting, despite the bluster she had come to expect from him, and that worried her. He seemed a little more keen on the money part, as if he were considering that as an alternate financial plan for the land. Minxia hated the idea of him in charge of something like that, but almost anything would be better than losing such an amazing find.  
"How do we know this isn't a bunch of dreck?" Vennson finally spoke in very thickly-accented Cretan. "You might make up anything to save this place."

If he couldn't tell evidence from tossed together facts, he didn't deserve an answer to that question, but even as she seethed inside, Minxia smiled. "We don't have to. As

I've just explained our logic and evidence to you, I'm sure you can see that. You could have analysts and other experts come in and check over all of our work. You'll find every bit of it genuine, and every theoretical based in solid fact."

Drakk nodded thoughtfully. "I think," his response cut of Vennson, who was turning red already, "That it is fitting to extend the period of your study, to see if any of your ideas bear fruit. The government prefers not to be overly hasty in matters of importance, and I am at the very least convinced that the matter should be fully considered before they are written off."

"But this is my land!" Vennson griped.

"Once the government hands over full rights. In the instance that this land proves to be a critical national landmark, it falls under government jurisdiction and you will receive back precisely what you paid for it," Drakk reminded him. "Thoughts, General?" Drakk looked at Tore.

Tore had remained very quiet throughout the entire thing, maintaining a presence that radiated quiet competence and no clear preference. Now, he nodded at Drakk, and smiled. "That seems a wise course of action, presuming the archeological team does not object."

As if they would! Minxia looked back at Ullf and Laren. Both men were smiling broadly. "That seems very reasonable," she agreed, looking back at the government official.

Drakk nodded. "Excllent. Now, remember that we expect results. If you cannot demonstrate for certainty the importance of this landmark, or find evidence contrary to your claims, we expect an honest report."

"Understood, sir."

"Very well then. We will get out of your way so you can continue your work." Drakk set down the papers in his hands and turned to Vinaro. "Please come with me. I'd like to speak to you on the way back to my car."

The Cretan law expert nodded and led the way.

When he was gone, Minxia collapsed back into her seat, letting out a loud breath of relief.

"Well done," Ullf's giant hand patted her shoulder. "You were quite convincing."

"Yeah, but you weren't the one I was trying to convince." Minxia smiled, though she was far more relieved by Thrakos arriving on her side of the table holding a large cup of ice water. "Thank you."

"You about talked their ears off, I thought you might be thirsty," he said calmly, though his eyes said something else entirely. _You looked tired and thirsty. Are you okay?_  
Minxia took a long, slow drink before responding. "You read my mind." _I'm fine, quit worrying._

Thrakos gave her a look that clearly said _you know I can't do that._ Aloud he chuckled casually. "Now that would be a useful skill to pick up. If I could read minds, I'd be a better politician than my father."

"Or a very frustrated one. Mind _control_ would be much more useful," Great-Uncle Ed quipped from his seat, where he was looking very smug about how this had turned out. At least, that was her assumption. Ed looked smug a lot.

"But unethical," Grandpa Al pointed out before turning to her. "Well done! That was very convincing."

"We didn't have to do much of anything but sit here and look intellectual," her father agreed.

"Is that what you call it?" Thrakos laughed.

"What would you call it?" Minxia asked her husband.

"Antique."

Fortunately, Thrakos was good at dodging thrown objects.

 **June 10** **th** **, 1986**

"Dinner and good company, it doesn't get any better than this," Charlie grinned as he sat down across from Shelby at the tiny table in the apartment above the garage. He'd had closing again tonight, so he knew his family wouldn't miss him. Shelby's parents were having dinner with friends. As had become typical, Shelby had brought the leftovers that they wouldn't be able to sell tomorrow from the little bakery-deli, so they had roast beef sandwiches and raspberry pastries tonight.

"It's perfect," Shelby agreed. "Almost like we already live together."

Charlie liked the sound of that, and from the pleasure in Shelby's tone, she did too. "I have good news about that," he admitted as she divvied up the food. It had been all he could do not to blurt it out as soon as he'd let her in the building.

"What did you find out?" Shelby asked, as she set down his sandwich in front of him.

Charlie had left the house early that morning so he could run by the city library. There, he had spent nearly an hour looking through local laws, and had found precisely what he had hoped for. He pulled the folded photocopy out of his pocket and handed it across the table before reaching for his food. "City rules haven't changed in forty years," he grinned. "Any couple can get married without parental consent as long as both of them are at least seventeen years old with reasonable cause and bring a witness." It would just be legal paperwork, but marriage was marriage. Their parents wouldn't be able to do anything to stop them.

"Marlie or Gill would come." Shelby nodded, scanning the paper eagerly. "So that takes care of the witness. But what about _reasonable cause?_ That implies the city official could say no."

"From what I could find in the public records that just seems to be to avoid particularly awkward legal entanglements like someone marrying two people without telling the other, or strange things like that. The law exists to keep parents from _keeping_ couples from getting married due to family differences."

"So we just have to wait until December."

Charlie nodded. Shelby's birthday was in late November, his at the beginning of December. As soon as they were both seventeen, they could force her parents to stop keeping them apart. At least, unless they managed to talk them around by then, which seemed unlikely. Shelby had stopped even bringing up any kind of potential boyfriend at home. Charlie hadn't wanted to upset his parents either, now that they finally seemed happy with him again, and his mother was feeling better. "December should be enough time. You've got your job, and I've got mine. Between us we can put together enough to afford a place." A small place, but one of their own; Charlie hadn't told his parents he was saving every penny he made this summer towards that end. They knew he was working hard and making money, but they assumed he was saving up for something more typical, like a car of his own. As much as Charlie would have loved that, he loved Shelby more.

"I still wish I knew for sure they wouldn't turn us down," Shelby admitted, looking nervous as they both started to eat.

"I'm sure we can convince them. After all, I love you."

She smiled. "I love you, too."

Charlie let quiet fall as they ate. He wished he felt as certain as he sounded. There had to be a way to be sure the city officer would marry them. They'd just have to build a very good case on the chance that whoever it was wanted to drag their parents into it before the paperwork was signed.


	8. Part 1-8 - Spring-Summer '86

**June 14** **th** **, 1986**

Ethan supposed that in any other family, having the father of the woman giving birth in the room might be a little odd, but he was honored—and relieved—that his daughter and his son-in-law had wanted him in attendance, just in case. As well as Lily's pregnancy had gone, particularly for one with twins, there were always more risks.

However, it looked as though their concerns were going to come to nothing. His daughter seemed to be handling her first delivery with the same level head she handled everything else, which was good, because Randy was definitely having trouble holding it together after seventeen hours.

"We're almost there," their regular physician, Dr. Tina Greene, smiled calmingly from the business end of the bed. Ethan, who was sitting opposite Randy up near his daughter's head, was focused on providing a constant low flow of alchemical energy that allowed him to keep tabs on the delivery, and also the general well-being of Lily and both babies. He had also taken the worst edge of the pain off her contractions, as he had done for Lia when Lily and Eamon were born. Not that Lily had needed much. None of the most common complications had occurred, and she was within a few pushes of delivering the first twin.

Lia lurked over Randy's shoulder, and Ethan wondered how crowded this room must look to anyone who wasn't familiar with their family. Nevertheless, this was a big event, and if Lily wanted them all there, Ethan wasn't about to miss it.

"Come down here," Dr. Greene gestured to Randy. "You want to be here for this."

Randy looked like he wasn't sure he could be trusted to help catch a baby, but he went.

Ethan focused on continuing his work, and several minutes later, Lily's work was rewarded with a squalling, good sized, healthy baby, and Randy's stunned face as he held his child in his hands.

Ethan had no trouble seeing the baby's gender from his seat. "That's a good looking boy," he chuckled, not at all surprised.

Lily's tired face brightened. "He's so big!"

Randy nodded, looking happy, if a little green. "He is…and loud."

"And there's still one to go," Dr. Greene reminded him gently as she cut the umbilical cord.

"Here, I'll help." Lia left Lily's side and took Randy's place at the end of the bed as Dr. Greene looked over the baby boy. There was little chance the second would come before the first was cleaned up.

Indeed, that turned out to be the case. The first baby was cleaned up and swaddled, and cradled in Lia's arms by the time Randy needed to help catch baby two.

Ethan helped bolster his daughter's flagging energy, but he was proud of how well she was holding up. Time passed, and there was more pushing, and then there were two new babies in the world, not just one.

Finally, both babies were snuggled up on their mother's chest, blankets over them for warmth. Exhausted, clean, and warm, they quieted, sleeping fitfully.

"Thank you, Daddy," Lily smiled, the last word broken by a yawn, as she cradled her newborn children.

"You hardly needed me," Ethan brushed it off. "You were just fine."

"You were _incredible."_ Randy, seated on the edge of the bed, had one arm around his wife's shoulders. He kissed her cheek. "Look at these two," he beamed down at the twins.

"I can't stop looking," Lily replied. "They're perfect."

"Do your new little miracles have names?" Ethan finally asked, enjoying watching his daughter and her husband enjoying their first hour as a family of four. He remembered that feeling well.

Lily nodded. "We had two of each, just in case," she admitted. She nodded down at the first born. "This handsome fellow is Jace."

"And our darling little girl is Lexi." Randy reached out, caressing his daughter's cheek with one finger.

Short, simple, and both very appropriate. Ethan grinned.

"They're wonderful names." Lia hadn't stopped beaming, clearly enjoying her new role as grandmother.

Now that he was done making sure, they made it into the world, and his daughter was fine, Ethan could begin to relax and enjoy the title of _grandpa._

Which meant, of course, taking last hand on holding the babies, but he didn't mind. "Anyone need anything?" he asked as he stood up and stretched. "I'm going to get a snack."

Lily shook her head absently, only half hearing him. Lia smiled. "If you could bring me back an iced tea, I'd appreciate it."

"One tea. You?" Ethan looked at his son-in-law.

"I'll come along." Randy surprised him. "I'm famished," he admitted.

"Sure." Ethan smiled.

They left the room together, paused by the restroom in the waiting room, and made their way down to the hospital cafeteria.

"How do you do it?" Randy asked as they both loaded up plates.

"Do what?" Ethan took a bet on the chicken soup, sausages, and a salad.

"Stay calm." Randy went for a sandwich. "I wasn't sure I could hold it together."

"But you did." Ethan smiled. "You were great, actually. I was impressed."

Randy looked surprised, then pleased. "Thanks. I didn't want Lily to worry. But really, you could have been taking a walk."

"Maybe running a marathon." Ethan chuckled. All that alchemy took it out of him every time. "But all I can say is… experience. I've been helping deliver babies since I was in high school."

Randy stared at him as they moved up to the front of the line to pay. "High school?"

"Yeah. I got to assist with Trisha's birth, when my sister had her." He tried not to think how long ago that really was. "Deliveries are one of my favorite things I do as a physician; bringing new lives into the world safely, making sure their mothers come out of it well, and the father's with a shred of sanity," he added the last with a knowing grin. "It's different when it's your own, but even then, I had helped with nearly two dozen births before we had Lily and Eamon, and more between them and Aeddan. Today, there was nothing to be particularly worried about. Lily did great, and everything went right from start to finish. You'd both have been fine without me, but I'm grateful you let me be here." Randy could have insisted his in-laws not be there, and Ethan would have honored that request if Lily had wanted it that way.

Randy swallowed a bite of his sandwich. "Are you kidding? Having you both here has been great. Everything's ready at home, we have a car I'm not afraid will burst into flames with my family in it… and Lily couldn't imagine not having you here."

"We're just glad we've been helpful and not in the way," Ethan assured him. "I've never wanted to be _that_ kind of in-law." As much as he and Lia's mother got along now,

Ethan had spent a lot of time in his life biting his tongue where his mother-in-law was concerned. "What's so funny?" he asked as Randy almost choked on his food, laughing.

Randy took a long drink of soda, swallowed, and grinned. "I've met Grandma Swanson, remember?"

 **June 15** **th** **, 1986**

"You look amused," Alphonse commented as Edward put down the phone receiver.

Ed, who had just finished speaking to Winry, smiled at his brother and shrugged. "Just enjoying the ongoing expansion of our little dynasty."

"Oh really?" Al fell into step beside him as they walked back towards the dig from the small permanent structure that actually had a phone.

Ed nodded. "Winry heard from Ethan. Lily had her babies yesterday, boy and girl. Healthy as can be. Back home, Deanna's been over almost every other day with her kiddos who want to see the kittens that have taken over my living room."

Al understood now his brother's amusement. "They're on seven, and now Minxia."

"Right." Ed's smile turned smug. "And it's all because of us, Al; a whole world full of Elrics."

"I'm pretty sure Winry and Elicia will insist on taking their share of the credit." Still, for a family that had nearly died out when they were boys, it certainly had grown. Given how often they had run off into life-threatening danger, their descendants were lucky to exist!

"Which is most of it," Ed conceded, glancing up at the sky as thunder rumbled overhead. The clouds had come in during the night, turning an already cool for summer day into a chilly one that reminded Alphonse of late fall in Central. Yet the trees here didn't seem to mind. They were green and full of leaves despite the wet chill.

It was very beautiful country, with a rugged wildness that seemed at odds with their modern sensibilities. Al found it amusing that both he and Ed seemed far more comfortable with the locals who still believed in their folk tales and old gods, than the very clean, atheistic views of the government. Not that he said that to Edward. He didn't feel like starting a religious debate with his brother on such a nice afternoon. Especially since Ed looked a little stiff. The fact that he wasn't complaining meant he was probably aching pretty consistently. He usually only whined when it wasn't too bad. Al didn't ask if Ed was taking his medicine either. At their age, some things weren't worth quibbling over. Besides, he probably had, and that was probably why he was functional.

There was too much exciting discovery going on to worry about quarreling anyway. In the past week—half way through their given extension—the team had made a lot of progress at clearing away and deciphering more of the circle. Their careful work had found tracing of carved patterns in the broken rock floor that had been unearthed under the entire circle, nearly three inches below the soil that had crept over it. The lines on the ground clearly connected all of the main points needed to create a transmutation circle, ending at least part of that mystery. Not that the alchemy connections would save the place, but it was fascinating for all of the alchemists involved. If they only had limited time to understand what was there, then they had to determine what it did, how, and quickly.

When they arrived back at the circle, it was swarming with archaeologists, carefully chipping, brushing, and clearing away everything still covering any part of the ground diagram, and also outside of it, to see how far the circle extended past the pillars. The stone floor was pieces of exceedingly well-fitted pieces of stone with minimal seams, though they were more chipped than they had been when they were built, clearly. The circle appeared to end right after the pillars, but that had not been confirmed.  
Almost everyone was focusing on this part of the dig, given it seemed to hold the best chance of divulging what would save the site from imminent destruction. Minxia was carefully cataloging every symbol as it was uncovered, its meaning, and its location in relation to the others, adding them to the detailed diagrams under construction. Will was assisting in that endeavor, clearly trying not to step on his daughter's academic toes. She didn't need his help, but she often asked his opinions and thoughts, and Al enjoyed watching them work together. At the moment they were staring intently at a series of markings just uncovered near the top end of the diagram.

Thrakos helped all over. He dug, he brushed, he worked out political and financial negotiation options with Vinaro to try and save the site even if they didn't find something the government felt made the site worth saving, even for a while. When he wasn't doing that, he was hunting down Minxia at every opportunity to check up on his wife without trying to look painfully obvious. Al was sure half the site was at least suspicious about what was going on, if they hadn't figured it out, but none of them said anything so Thrakos remained oblivious to the obviousness of his excuses to go find Minxia.

At the moment, everyone was in evidence. Even Tore who, supposed lack of involvement aside, was down in the sand and dirt with everyone else, digging eagerly. They couldn't excavate using alchemy. It would take too much energy for something this delicate, and if it was too strong it might destroy the site if they didn't know what was there. There was the possibility, as Edward had pointed out, that they could restore portions of the site to its original splendor and functionality with alchemy if they so chose. However, that would also affect the value of the site. They didn't necessarily need the circle to _function_ at the moment.

Tore spotted them and started waving excitedly.

"Guess we should see what he wants." Ed shrugged and turned that direction.

Al followed. By the time they reached Tore and the two archaeologists he was working beside, nearly half the site had responded to the shout of excitement. He soon saw why: Tore was holding one of the oddest things Al had ever seen in his hands. It appeared, essentially, to be a twisting tube of sandy concrete nearly a yard long. There were two more lying on the ground, and ends partially exposed in the sand.

Tore looked amazed. Grinning broadly, he held it up. "Look at this!"

After a moment, Al realized what he was looking at, just as Ed exclaimed "Lightning!"

Tore nodded emphatically. "It's fused sand," he confirmed, "And it appears to be radiating _out_ from this circle. At least on this side."

"We need to see if it does this on the other sides," Ullf agreed. Looks of hope were beginning to spread throughout the team. _This_ might just confirm a couple of their theories about the site: that it was in fact dedicated to Taor, and that it might have been used to summon, or control, lightning.

"How can we help?" Al offered.

"Is this sturdy enough we can find it with alchemy?" Ed asked hopefully as he picked up one of the strange branches of sand. "It would be a lot faster than more days of digging."

Given the circle had a diameter of thirty feet, which was a lot of circumference to check.

"You're the lightning expert," Will commented to Tore, making it clear they were waiting on his say-so before attempting anything of the sort.

"For location purposes, it should," Tore said after several long, thoughtful seconds. "However, I wouldn't try digging it up that way, just in case."

"That's fine," Ullf commented. "Just locating it will save us days, and we don't have to dig up all of it, just uncover enough to prove this was a strike point, and give us enough sample to run tests on."

"We can do that." Ed grinned. "Hell, I can do that on my own."

Determining the composition without altering anything was far simpler than trying to complete a full transmutation. Al nodded. "We should still take it in sections," he suggested. "We don't want to move too fast, and we can pinpoint specifics better if we break the area up into at least quadrants."

"I'll take one," Tore nodded. "The three of you can take the others."

No one suggested Minxia take one and, much to Al's relief, his granddaughter didn't try to insist on taking part. She needed that energy for other things.

Soon enough, they had marked off four quadrants around the circle, with Tore taking the one with the original discovery. Once Ed, Al, and Will had all done a test-sensing on that area to make sure they fully understood the feel and composition of what they were searching for, they took a corner, with the assistance of another archaeologist to take notes and help mark locations on diagrams for later digging.

The process didn't look like much, Al supposed, as they drew their transmutation circles and got to work, though from time to time any twist particularly closed to the surface was enough to make the dirt above glow ever so subtly blue. That made it easy for the archaeologists to see and note locations with exceedingly good accuracy. It still took several hours to find and mark everything, but by dinnertime, they had a very good idea for where to dig the next day to demonstrate proof that the lightning radiated out from the rocks, despite the fact they looked like a terrible choice for any kind of lightning rod.

That was what made this even more interesting. Al just wished he knew if this kind of evidence would do anything to save the site from the fate of mediocre housing. A thousand years ago, this had been beach-side property that fit the description of the landing site in the local legend perfectly, even though the story was well documented as existing before these stones had been found under scrub bushes and a small forest. If only it had been within the Cretan border, instead of just a few miles on the other side. Then it wouldn't have mattered who had built it.

"It's too bad the government of Creta can't buy that land," Al commented to Thrakos over dinner in the mess tent that evening. "They could offer Kartos more than Vennson can."

Thrakos nodded, his expression sour. "Oh I thought about that. Vinaro and I discussed it at length, and we even made them a preliminary offer, but they turned it down. They care too much about preserving the border and not losing any more of their country. Which, I can't really blame them," he nodded begrudgingly. "Before we were on good terms, back a hundred years ago and longer, the border was in dispute often, and Drachma has eaten up over half of their original country in the past three-hundred years. It's only in the past fifty that they managed any kind of peace there, and only because Drachma's attentions keep getting diverted elsewhere."

"Glad we could be a useful diversion," Al quipped, though there was certainly no malice in it. "At least you tried. I don't suppose there is any hope of revisiting that, even as a joint-ownership? They would get a profit and get to keep their land."

"Also tried it. Still got turned down." His frustration was palpable as he stabbed the sausages on his plate into little pieces between bites. "We'd like to up the offer and make a counter-offer but we haven't gotten approval for that kind of funding. They _might_ let us remove as many of the artifacts as possible to a safer location before the area is torn down, but only if it fits in an acceptable timeline."

"Moving all of that stone would be time consuming," Al agreed. "Though with alchemy, we could speed that process along." Particularly with lifting and placing things directly into trucks for hauling it away. Also probably reinforcing those trucks so they were not crushed under the weight of the stones. "Has that been an official request yet?"

Thrakos shook his head. "Not yet. We're holding it in reserve for if things don't go well for us at the next meeting. Even if the sale goes through, the government has the ability to require Vennson to give us time to salvage what we can." The words clearly pained him. Thrakos didn't like losing, he didn't like the destruction of priceless artifacts, and he probably felt even more protective since it was one of Minxia's projects.

"Well, whatever happens, they won't be able to say we didn't all give it our best." Al cut his sausage less viciously than his grandson-in-law. "This is far from over."

"Oh, I'm not giving up," Thrakos assured him. "Though I've been wondering if I couldn't just buy Vennson off."

"How so?" Al asked, curiously.

"By offering the government a better private deal." Thrakos replied.

Al managed not to stare as he realized what Thrakos meant. He was considering using his own private funds. It was easy to forget, at times, that Thrakos was also the primary heir to the Argyros family fortune, and already had a large sum of wealth at his disposal at any given time due not only to the family's historical wealth, but due to continued intelligent investments in the past three generations. He wouldn't even have to touch his parents' money. "Do you know how much Vennson paid for it?"

Thrakos nodded. "Several million in Cretan coin," he admitted.

"What does Minxia think of the idea?"

"I haven't brought it up to her." Thrakos sighed. "Please don't mention it. I'm not even sure if I can do it, but if it will save her work, I will gladly invest in the site myself, buy the land, and set it up as a protected site. Eventually we could build a museum, maybe even offer guided tours, as long as people stay off the rocks."

Al didn't point out just then that Minxia might not want him to do that. There would be time to talk him down later if such a desperate move even proved to be necessary. "Good thing there's no lawn to worry about."

 **June 17** **th** **, 1986**

The first day the babies came home was a chaotic one. Lia was glad she and Ethan were there to help get everyone home and settled. The new car, fitted out with baby car seats, had been a smart gift, and it made bringing everyone home from the hospital a little less insane. They were discharged that morning, and by lunchtime everyone was home, and beginning to feel settled. Lia smiled patiently, enjoying the small moments within such a momentous event, just as she had since they had arrived, and even more since Lily had gone into labor and delivered. While their lives were now entirely turned upside down, she was proud of how well Lily and Randy were handling the addition of two new lives into their own. It was far too early to have an established routine, but that didn't seem to frighten them… too much.

There was always something to do: one baby would need a change, then both, then one or both would be hungry, and one might be sleepy or need burping before the other, but almost never at the same time, or it would be both at once needing something. At no point yet had both twins simply been quietly content and asleep at the same time.  
This, Lia remembered, was completely normal with twins. They were darling babies, her grandson and granddaughter, but newborn babies were forces of nature, and twins even more-so.

It was probably a good thing that things were already in a constant state of minor chaos, because Gloria Fischer's scheduled arrival that afternoon did nothing to calm things, but didn't really add to it either.

"Hello!" Gloria beamed as she came through the door; arms laden with shopping bags full of what Lia was sure were baby gifts. Her fashionable ensemble-a white pencil-line skirt and burgundy top with a v-neck and three-quarter sleeves- stood out against the comfortable frumpiness of everyone else in the room. "Oh my goodness, they're adorable!" She dropped the bags on the kitchen counter and crossed the room, beaming at Lily and Randy and she hugged Randy first, then leaned over and gave Lily a more cautious around-the-side hug that avoided crushing the twins who were, for a brief moment, both asleep in their mother's arms. "How are you doing?" she asked her cousin more softly. "You look great."

Lily laughed, but didn't contradict Gloria. Lia smiled. For a new mother of two, Lily did look great. Tired and smiling was exactly how she ought to look. "I can thank my new little fashion consultants. Though they might be new little fashion models," she commented, eyeing the bags.

"Oh it's not all clothes," Gloria assured her. "Just some of it. I kind of went a little overboard. They make so many cute things for babies!"

"Baby shopping is dangerous," Lia agreed, then glanced back at the door. "So, I thought you were bringing a friend." Gloria had asked permission on the phone before coming over.

Gloria nodded and straightened up. "I did. He had to find a parking space for the motorcycle."

"You rode here on a motorcycle?" Ethan eyed her.

Gloria's grin broadened. "As a matter of fact, I did. I know what you're thinking. How can I not have a single hair out of place? Let's just say I have hairspray that could pin spiders to walls… and has, in a moment of panic."

Now there was an image. Any reply was cut off by a polite, if solid, knock at the door.

"That's him." Gloria hurried to the door ahead of even Randy. She opened it and a mountain walked in.

Well, not quite a mountain. In truth, he looked more like a Drachman clothing model. Lia had heard of Alexei Deviatovski from Alyse, but this was the first time anyone in the family had met him. He was taller than anyone in the Elric family for certain, even Alphonse and Ian. He looked, to her mind, like a scaled down version of younger images of General Alex Armstrong she had seen. Just more normal. Broad shouldered, but proportionally sized and muscular, with a solid, angular jaw and a nose that was just a little too large and hooked for an actual model. His hair was thick, short, and yellow-blond. His eyes were a surprisingly deep, dark blue, and they matched the broad, friendly smile. He was dressed conservatively in khaki pants and a deep blue polo shirt that was only a shade lighter than his eyes.

"Everyone, this is Alexei." Gloria was clearly trying not to seem overeager about introduction her friend to them. As far as Lia had heard, they weren't _officially_ dating, but they had clearly become good friends over the past several months. Very good, given he had come to East City just to visit her, which was why she hadn't yet gone home for the summer. "Alexei, this is my cousin Lily and her husband, Randy. And these are Lily's parents, Lia and Ethan Elric."

It spoke well of him that Alexei didn't seem at all flustered by the meeting, just pleased as he shook Randy's hand, then Ethan's. He took only a moment to decide to make a small bow over Lia's hand as they shook it. Even then, it had the feel as if he had bent over her hand and kissed it; a very Drachman gesture even though she knew he had been raised in Amestris. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he spoke with a smooth, warm, pleasant voice. "Gloria talks about her family all the time."

"I'd imagine that takes a while," Lia chuckled. "There are a lot of us."

Alexei chuckled. "I noticed. Thankfully, Gloria is an excellent storyteller."

"That's just because interesting thing happens in our family," Gloria shrugged like it was nothing, but Lia could see she was pleased by the compliment. "Alexei's work is brilliant even when it's about old dusty carpets."

"They were thousand year old Xingese antiques," Alexei pointed out, but he grinned broadly.

He had a very white, even grin Lia noticed. The comment made her think of something, and she remembered what Alexei did for a living. "I read that issue! The rugs were fascinating."

"They were fascinating even without my help," he commented. "I just wanted everyone else to enjoy them as much as I did." There was no false modesty there, just a sincerity that spoke well of Alexei, and was present in his writing. The pleasure and awe in the article was his.

The conversation quickly turned back to the newborns, and Gloria brought out her pile of gifts which did, despite a large collection of fashionable baby clothes in a variety of sizes, include more practical items as well. Sets of crib sheets with matching blankets, cloth diaper covers, baby-safe stuffed animals, several packages of diapers, and even a tape of lullabies and several picture books. "I know they're not old enough for some of it, but they were just so cute. And some of these books are classics."

"I recognize the duck," Ethan chuckled.

Lia smiled. She was pretty sure everyone she knew had a copy of that one.

"It's all great," Lily assured her cousin. "And, believe it or not, it doesn't duplicate anything we have, except for things we need lots of anyway," she added, grinning.

"What's in the last bag?" There was still one that hadn't been opened.

Gloria smiled. "Those are for you and Randy. I figured as much as babies need things, you two could use a little care package too."

At a nod from Lily, Randy pulled the bag over and reached in. Out came a very different selection of items, though Lia thought this was truly the most thoughtful selection of gifts yet. Particularly insightful too, since Gloria wasn't a parent.

Randy looked a little stunned as he catalogued it all. "Hey, Lils, it's your favorite tea, and she's found it in decaf!" There was very good Aerugean coffee-extra caf-for Randy, and Lily once the babies were weaned, a couple of very cute mama-feeding friendly tops Lily could wear out and around town that didn't scream _breastfeeding top_. In fact, they were surprisingly fashionable; far more than anything that had been available when Lia was nursing. She was almost envious. Almost.

There were some of Randy and Lily's favorite movies on the new boxy tapes that were available, and a player for them! Randy's eyes almost fell out when that came out of the bag. Lia didn't want to know what it had cost, but given how much time they would be spending at home, a little entertainment of their choice was actually a very thoughtful gift. There was possibly the most comprehensive pile of coupons Lia had ever seen: for take-out and order-in food, groceries, even housekeeping services, "And those last ones are redeemable to me, for free babysitting," Gloria smiled. "Everyone needs a little just-us time."

"Aren't you the knowledgeable one," Lily chuckled, but she was clearly very touched by the gifts. "This is so much! Thank you."

"Hey, you deserve it." The two women hugged again.

Randy pulled one last thing out of the bag; a large, very expensive looking bottle of Drachman vodka.

Alexei chuckled. " _That_ is a traditional present for new fathers in my family."

"Well, thank you." Randy looked pleased, but still slightly puzzled. "Any particular reason?"

Alexei nodded. "My father told me it was because when you only have two or three hours to sleep at a time, sometimes you just need to be able to pass out quickly."

Lia started chuckling the same time everyone else did.

Randy laughed the hardest. "It wouldn't take much of this."

With a bottle that large, and given Lia knew her son-in-law didn't drink often, it would last a while. "You'll have enough to get sleep until they're in college," she teased gently.

Randy nodded. "I expect I might have enough left to toast the birth of my own grandchildren!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Lily chided.

"Yeah. I might need it to get through their teen years," Randy conceded as he stood and put the bottle away up in a cabinet.

Lily just shook her head.

It wasn't a long visit, but it was an enjoyable one. After an hour, Gloria and Alexei left them in peace, and Lia helped find places for all of the gifts in the babies' room.

When she came back out, it was in the middle of a very gossipy conversation. She paused, leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway.

"I'm telling you, they're dating," Lily insisted.

"They said they're not," Ethan pointed out with the sound of having repeated himself more than once already.

"That doesn't mean anything," Lily shook her head. "I'm telling you."

"Sorry, I think I've got to side with your Dad on this one," Randy admitted, looking sheepish. "If a guy says he's not dating a girl, they're not dating."

"He didn't say that," Lily countered. "All we know is what Gloria has said."

"And she says their friends. Why wouldn't she claim him if they were?" Randy asked.

Lily shrugged. "Maybe he's the skittish type...like some men in our family," she gave Ethan a pointed look, and Lia covered her mouth to keep from chuckling aloud. She had spent many years slowly working on Ethan.

To his credit, Ethan didn't look embarrassed. "He certainly doesn't seem the shy type. He's a reporter and writer for a living."

"Point." Lily's brow furrowed. "But you just have to watch them together to tell there's chemistry." At that point, Lily spotted her. "Mom! Back me up here."

Lia smiled and came into the room. "They certainly have chemistry," she agreed as she joined them, sitting down on the couch beside her daughter. "And he's a very handsome, accomplished young man. They were also, as I recall, running out to meet friends for dinner."

"That doesn't make them dating," Ethan pointed out.

Lia shrugged. "He travelled down from North City just to visit her. You heard him. His next on-location assignment is in Central in three days. And when is Gloria finally going home for the summer?"

That made both of the men pause. Finally, Ethan sighed. "In three days."

Lia nodded. "I think that solves that."


	9. Part 1-9 - Spring-Summer '86

**June 23** **rd** **, 1986**

Edward couldn't remember the last time he'd been nervous about performing alchemy, but in this particular instance it was a critical part of the presentation of the findings of their research over the past weeks. It was his job to demonstrate that the circle was, in fact, used to summon and control lightning, which explained several unique lifestyle elements of the village surrounding this circle, including some of their more unusual carvings, and what appeared to be possibly short-lived lightning charged lamps. It had been quite some time since Ed had done Tore's style of transmutation, but he was certain he hadn't forgotten, and he and Tore had both verified that the circle in the rocks should work the way they thought.

Minxia stood calmly by, explaining everything to Drakk, Vennson, Vinaro, and Tore who was pretending that he didn't already know everything. Minx was strategically wearing one of her husband's two-pocketed collared work shirts with the sleeves rolled up. The loose, oversized fit conveniently hid the fact that she was nearing the end of her first trimester and starting to show.

At this point, Alphonse and Will only chimed in as needed to verify a point, letting Minxia take the lead as the alchemist actually _working_ the site. Even Vennson, despite his obvious dislike of the situation, seemed intrigued by the lightning-fused sand shapes. He was probably wondering what he could sell them for, Ed thought unpleasantly. He just couldn't bring himself to even like the guy. He had a slimy feeling to him, and the way he appraised everything with his eyes.

This was it, time for the big demonstration. Ed watched Minxia. None of them were standing right up next to the circle because they didn't want to accidentally electrocute anyone, and they hadn't exactly pre-tested it for fear of giving away their primary advantage. Ed was closer, but only marginally. They had added to the circle just enough for him to be able to transmute from a distance, using a clever ignition circle connected to the ancient one using Minxia's set of Xingese alkahestry knives; a set very much like Ren's, and Mei's.

There it was; the nod from Minxia. Ed crouched, clapped his hands together-more out of habit than necessity-and dropped to his knees, his hands touching the circle in front of him lightly. Twenty yards away from him, he felt the alchemical energy hit the ancient circle, and he felt it shift subtly. It felt different in a way Ed couldn't quite describe, but the flow of the energy moved differently. He felt it flow in, surround itself, and then the energy seemed to double, then triple, and it kept growing exponentially. A less experienced alchemist would have most certainly lost control of so much power.

Ed watched the stones as the lines and marks around them all began to glow a brilliant blue. Then the air within the circle began to shimmer and spark. First once, then twice, then a dozen, until thousands of little flares were going off around each other.

It built to a crescendo, flooding Ed's ears with music; the subtle hum and flash of alchemy. Then-

 _CRACK!_

Ed closed his eyes at the last possible moment, and even so he felt blinded as his eyes shut just as the lightning was pulled from the sky and connected with the energy below. The crack and clap was loud enough that for a moment he couldn't hear, so he had no idea how the people watching reacted.

He was too busy focusing on controlling the immense power that surged beneath him and within him. Controlling, guiding, Ed took the energy where the circle meant it to go…. Into the standing stones themselves, and the stone floor that connected them, and the small pile of stones carefully set in the center.

Only then, when the power had ebbed, did Ed open his eyes and look up. He grinned then. It had worked, just the way he and Tore had anticipated.

Every run and mark on the stones was still glowing, in clear lines of bright blue, but now, each of the stones was glowing in its own right. It would have been even more impressive at night he was sure, but it was still pretty darned impressive in daylight.

Most importantly, the pile of rocks in the middle was glowing very brightly all on its own: a rock-based alchemical energy lamp. Crude, and it certainly bled off the energy over time, but the alchemists had theorized that they must remain functional as light sources for several days. Ed stood and walked towards the center of the circle. Minxia was leading the entire party in the same direction and when they got there, Ed was already lifting one of the rocks. Despite humming with blue energy, it was cool to the touch. It was a surprisingly subtle transmutation, and one best done with the type of rock available along this shoreline, altering it just enough to hold and emanate low light. A light that wouldn't burn down a house would certainly be useful in a society that had once built primarily with wood and reeds.

Minxia picked up one of the rocks as if it was nothing, and handed it to Drakk. "As you can see, not only in the site still entirely functional, but it makes something unique, useful, and heretofore undiscovered. You won't find anything like this elsewhere."

"I'll vouch for that," Will commented glibly, reaching eagerly for one of the glowing stones.

Tore's face barely hid his excitement as he reached down and also picked up a stone for him, and one he handed to Vennson, who looked both repulsed and intrigued.  
It would certainly be worth quite a lot to the right people. Ed could see people buying them now, even if it was more of a souvenir. Without a way to renew the energy, the stones were useless. Ed couldn't wait to see if they might not work as good renewable lamps in an alchemy workshop. That was, if they could be reenergized with a smaller circle and less explosive lightning since the change to the rock itself had already been accomplished. Or perhaps, with a more efficient and modern circle. A lamp that didn't bring electricity near explosive materials would also be useful. However, Ed would need a lot of the rocks, or a much smaller workspace for his delicate materials.

Drakk was looking intently at the stone. It was quite likely the first time the man had ever seen alchemy in action given the skepticism that surrounded it in this country. "Can you tell me how this is accomplished?"

 _Seeing is believing, huh?_ Ed smiled as Minxia gestured to him to speak. "Of course I can." He kept it simple, explaining as clearly as possible the structural changes involved, and the purpose of so much energy.

"It is likely that whatever led your ancestors to this shore also inspired this fascinating technology," Ed finished.

"Technology?" Vennson snorted.

"Well what else would you call something that consistently makes a functional, practical product that people could use in their homes?" Ed asked, trying to keep the derision from his tone. He succeeded, mostly. Winry would be proud. "In all these ruins, there's no evidence of anything here ever burning down. This is probably why."

"Let's discuss." Drakk motioned to Thrakos, Vinaro, and Tore.

"What about me?" Vennson blustered.

"Your part in this decision is only relevant depending on the outcome," Drakk replied, eyes and tone matching in equal hardness.

Ed desperately wished he could be an insect on someone's collar for that conversation. Unfortunately, he couldn't hear anything as the four men spoke in a very quiet circle just out of range.

"What do you think?" Al asked in a near-whisper, as they stood there waiting, and watching.

"No one's yelling," Ed replied with a shrug. "That should be good for us. If it looks bad, Thrakos will get very emphatic with his hands."

"You noticed that did you?" Minxia asked with a smile as she joined them, arms crossed nervously around her midriff.

"It's hard to miss," Will said.

And so they waited, each one handling a blue glowing stone. Al even picked up two more and started juggling to pass the time.

Finally, they returned. Vinaro and Drakk were composed. Tore's face was schooled to a neutrality that only years of military training could drill into someone as normally animated as him. Thrakos was a bundle of barely-contained energy.

It was Drakk who spoke. "It has been agreed, that this location is of more importance to the nation of Kartos than originally considered."

"But-"

Drakk cut Vennson off with a sharp scowl. "It will be on my recommendation that the government refund Mr. Vennson his money, and keep the land as government property. Also, that the joint efforts to work on the site be allowed to continue, provided that nothing is removed without permission from the Kartosian government." At that, he gave a small smile. "I suspect that, once its secrets are uncovered, the government will not be averse to allowing artifacts and historical information about the greatness of Kartos' past history to go to other museums. It will raise interest in Kartosian tourism and exports."

The only negative tone in the eruption of pleased responses was Vennson, whose face had gone a lovely, livid shade of violet. "This is my property!" he bellowed, huffing up in Drakk's face, despite being shorter. "I paid for it and I own it!"

Drakk sighed. "You have not paid for it. The deal has not yet been signed and you do not hold the deed. You will be compensated appropriately should the government agree to my proposal." His tone implied that if he said it, it was almost a certainty. He had that kind of reputation.

Vennson seemed to swell, but then he realized that he was surrounded by a lot of very powerful people. Instead, he nodded gruffly, glowered at Tore, and stormed off without another word.

"Oh I wish that was the last we were going to hear of him," Thrakos commented when Vennson was finally out of sight.

"There's nothing he can do now," Minxia replied, beaming joyfully. "We did it!" She kissed Thrakos' cheek enthusiastically before turning to Drakk and offering her hand.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Drakk. I promise you won't be sorry."

"I never am, young lady," he replied, looking startled, but not displeased as he took her hand and shook it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to place a very important phone call."

 **June 24th, 1986**

Gloria was almost sorry when the train arrived in Central. For the past few days, she had been entirely alone on a train with Alexei. Well, not alone, but not surrounded by anyone who knew them or cared what they did. They weren't sharing a berth or anything, of course! That didn't mean they weren't spending a lot of time together. They had gotten seats beside each other, which meant that at least each of them was a little more comfortable as they leaned on each other for support while they slept. Gloria got a little thrill every time that happened. Alexei had very nice shoulders.

Days together, talking, telling stories, sharing meals. It was far more time than she had gotten to spend with him since they met. Ever since their first date last December, they had kept in contact mostly by phone, and by letters. Gloria loved that Alexei wrote letters. He was such a wonderful writer, that letters were as much of a pleasure as phone calls, and much less expensive. She had only seen him once in person since, when he had been in East City again to cover a cultural festival.

Gloria was very reluctant to see the end of their journey. She was very fond of Alexei. He was a dear friend, and she would have lied if she said she wasn't very interested in him, but she hadn't pressed. They lived in different cities, and he had his career and she had school to finish. There was little to recommend the relationship as more than friendship.

Except that Alexei was intelligent, witty, compassionate...and devastatingly handsome.

He also seemed to enjoy her company as much as she enjoyed his. Maybe someday.

Alexei helped her with her suitcases as they disembarked.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride to your hotel?" Gloria asked as they stood by the pickup, where both cars and busses would pull up to collect passengers.  
Alexei put down her suitcases and smiled, resting one hand on her shoulder. "I appreciate the offer, but I will be swinging past our Central office on the way, and it would inconvenience you."

"You're not an inconvenience," Gloria blurted out.

Alexei blinked and then he chuckled warmly. "Not to you, my _tsveta._ "

My… what? Gloria looked up at him curiously. "What does that mean?"

"It means radiant flower in Drachman," Alexei admitted, looking suddenly a little embarrassed. Gloria liked that his emotions showed on his fair skin. Then he swallowed.

"I'll be in town for a week. May I call on you?"

Occasionally the formal sounding speech patterns that he had clearly picked up from his father's Amestrian came out. Gloria liked those moments too. She smiled. "Of course you can! You came all the way to East City just so we could spend time together, didn't you?" She almost dared him to contradict that statement.

"It's not your permission I'm concerned about," Alexei admitted, but he relaxed. "I don't want to make an enemy of your father or brother."

The idea of anyone being worried about Charlie was funny. Though Gloria couldn't deny that her father had always been at least a little suspicious of her male friends, and definitely her boyfriends. "You don't need to worry about them," she assured him. "My family knows we're friends."

"Do your friends know we're friends?"

Her male friends, he meant. Gloria chuckled. "I have lots of friends. You've probably come up in conversation with enough of them." She purposefully didn't bring up which friends he might have meant.

Still, the answer seemed to assuage him, just as the bus pulled up, and the doors opened. As the crowd streamed off the bus, leaving room for new passengers, Alexei leaned in closer so he could be heard over the clamor. "I will call you tomorrow," he said before briefly kissing her cheek. "Please don't make evening plans."

Her cheek was burning, and it was a very pleasant sensation. "I'll have to see if my parents have planned anything," Gloria replied, much as she wanted to just blindly promise him anything, but she had never done that to anyone, and she wasn't about to start now. "I should know tonight, so I can tell you when you call."

Alexei nodded. "I can't steal you away from your family," he agreed with a knowing smile. "But I hope you're available." Then he grabbed his bag and turned to get on the bus.

Gloria watched him glow, her cheek warm, and her heard glad...and also pleased. Alexei hadn't looked upset and he hadn't tried to monopolize her time or make demands.

Still, that had been more than a friend wanting to hang out with another friend. Now that he was gone, she let herself grin openly.

* * *

"Who is that guy?" Cal grumbled as he stared at the tall blond who kissed his daughter on the cheek and then vanished onto a bus. The car, sitting in the parking lane, wasn't close enough for him to call out.

In the seat next to him, Alyse looked unconcerned. "Alexei Deviatovski, the writer for Cultural Monthly. That's the friend she mentioned. I specifically told you about him, remember?"

"You didn't tell me they were that friendly." They didn't look like just friends. Friends didn't look at his daughter like that… or make her smile that way either.

"Well don't you dare make a big deal out of it," Alyse warned him as they slowly inched closer and Gloria spotted the car and waved, bending to pick up her suitcases. "I won't have you messing with their friendship."

Cal sighed, but he didn't want to argue with Alyse. Gloria hadn't said she was _seeing_ the man, but then she usually didn't tell him much about any of her boyfriends, especially not since she had gone off to college. If she was seeing someone, he found out from Alyse, usually weeks or months later, sometimes after it was over. This half-Drachman guy… he certainly looked like the next romantic interest, no matter what Gloria said. "I won't bring it up," he promised.

Alyse kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

Cal just hoped he wouldn't regret it.


	10. Part 1-10 - Spring-Summer '86

**June 25** **th** **, 1986**

The mood on site had been entirely different for the past two days. Drakk had reported back that afternoon that the government committee in charge of their historical matter had agreed to his proposal without any major contestation. Ullf had immediately declared an afternoon of vacation and celebration, and there had been a lot of impromptu food, dancing, and serious drinking. Apparently, Kartosians could rival Drachmans for celebratory drinking.

The Elrics, Tore, Minxia, and Thrakos were probably the only members of the archeological team not still hungover on Wednesday morning as they returned to work. Though since everyone was smiling, it was difficult to tell in several cases.

Thrakos had willingly limited himself to one bottle of the sweet mead that was so popular in the area, and had made sure to brush his teeth vigorously afterward to avoid making his wife's stomach turn. He would rather die than be at fault for causing Minx to lose another meal. Instead, he had gotten up early to make sure she got first dibs on a hot, delicious breakfast.

Despite the early hour, he wasn't the only one up. A handful of archaeologists were already sitting in the mess tent sipping thick, dark coffee. He returned friendly waves and made his way to the line, where the food was just coming up fresh and hot from Svan and Callina, the two who had drawn cooking duty for the week.  
Thrakos was just finishing filling a plate for himself, and one for his wife, when a brain-splitting rumble and the sound of some kind of heavy equipment revving engines made him stop. Around him, people winced and cringed.

"What the hell is that?" Ullf thundered as he stood up.

"I wish I knew." Thrakos felt a twist of worry in his gut. They didn't have a lot of heavy equipment. There was that which might be needed to move larger pieces of stone, but they hadn't moved anything large. It wasn't needed. They also only had one or two vehicles of that quality. They had an answer moments later, as Edward and Alphonse Elric barged through the tent door, wide-eyed. "It's Vennson, that bastard!" Ed shouted. He looked furious.

"What?" Thrakos spun on his heel.

He had never seen such an angry expression on Al's face before either. "He's brought bulldozers."

Thrakos's stomach sank through the ground beneath his feet. "No." He wouldn't… his mind began to race. The government had forbidden anyone from tearing down the site. It was not Vennson's property anymore.

"You go out there and tell me that's not a line of bulldozers," Ed pointed back out the tent flaps. "But you can bet I'm not going to wait for you to get a good look!" With that he turned and stormed back out of the tent.

"We've got to hurry," Al said even as he started after his brother. "They're lined up to destroy the entire circle."

Thrakos blanched, and belatedly set the plates down on a table. Breakfast would have to wait. "Maybe we can talk him out of it." He bolted for the door.

"Good luck," Ullf snorted, and Thrakos realized he was sincere, even if he didn't believe it.

Thrakos wasn't sure he believed it himself.

Less than fifty yards out the door, he realized it was already too late for diplomatic negotiations. There was a line of fifteen bulldozers-the biggest he had ever seen-lined up at the top of the hill. Large, ugly monstrosities of metal, painted black and bright not-quite-lime green. They had Vennson's company logo on every one of them.

Ed and Al hadn't bothered to run that far. Instead, they were already clapping hands together, dropping to the ground-

-as a familiar flash of dark hair darted across Thrakos' field of view.

"STOP!" The word ripped from his mouth as he recognized his wife's form running right across the field of fire.

The two alchemists stopped immediately, and Thrakos saw Tore and his father-in-law come to a halt beside him. "She just darted out of the tent when the engines started," Will panted, staring wide-eyed.

Thrakos nodded. "We've got to stop her!" They couldn't risk hitting her, but they could chase her down. He stuffed down panic and started moving. He wouldn't put it past Vennson to run people over. Not now. If anything happened to Minxia and the baby…. "Minx!" he shouted as he picked up speed. "Damn it, Minxia, get out of the way!"  
If she heard him, she didn't acknowledge it. She ran, faster than he had realized she could, sprinting in between the entrance to the circle and the line of metallic death on the low-sloped hill above. Then she stood between them, planting her small frame like a tree.

It was then Thrakos realized she was carrying knives. _Damn it, Minx. You can't take them on yourself!_

He ran hard, but it was too late. He reached Minxia as she finished sketching out one of the fastest transmutation circles he'd ever seen on the ground...with her bare feet.

The bulldozers were moving, but Minxia was faster. She flung both sets of knives out in different directions, and dropped to the ground, transmuting with impressive speed.

The ground exploded between two bulldozers on one side, and two on the other: an overt threat.

If Thrakos had been driving one of those, he would definitely have reconsidered his employment. But he hadn't counted on Vennson, driving the front one himself, bellowing halfway incoherently over the loudspeaker attached to his equipment, shouting instructions at his drivers not to stop. "Minx, we've got to go."

"No!" She tore away from his hand on her shoulder. "This is not over!" Then she dropped to her knees, slammed her hands into her circle, and even Thrakos could feel the crackle of energy in the air as the ground began to rumble, then to shake visibly, and then a geyser of soil and rock erupted in a wall, longer than the line of bulldozers and almost as tall.

Thrakos had never seen her do anything quite that large, or dramatic.

He was only vaguely aware of the arrival of the other alchemists and nearly a dozen archaeologists in a variety of stages of undress-though fortunately no one was entirely naked.

The wall of earth grew, and surged, and solidified, shoving the machinery backwards, first a few inches, then feet, then yards despite their motors revving and trying to push through.

Vennson wasn't going to give up. Was the man a complete idiot? Thrakos was beginning to wonder if there was any way to stop him when he heard a distinctive whine, then a pop, and a muffled explosion. Then another…. And he realized that the bulldozers couldn't fight the wall forever. They were being pushed too hot, too fast.

Seven of them died before they head Vennson called a panicked retreat.

Thrakos didn't leave Minxia's side as she stood up, wiped her forehead, and suddenly wobbled. In a flash of panic, he shot out, grabbing her arms with as firm a grasp as he dared as she collapsed against him. "Minx? Love, are you all right?"

She blinked up at him blearily, her face beaded with sweat. "Yeah...did it work?"

"Looks like it." He held her steady as he looked up to where the rest of the camp had swarmed the wall. Behind it, he heard a few motors limping into the distance. "You're amazing."

"I'm so glad it's safe." She closed her eyes. "I… need to sit down."

Thrakos reached down and picked her right up off the ground, cradling his beautiful wife in his arms. "Let's get you something to eat," he suggested, trying not to panic. That was a lot of energy. He had no idea what that meant for a woman carrying a child. "And water."

She nodded, half-asleep and he hurried.

* * *

Edward found it very satisfying to hand a handcuffed Vennson over to the local constabulary for attempting to destroy government property. Vennson railed and shouted, but he was still stuffed into a police car and taken away.

"That was oddly satisfying," Al commented.

"And you're supposed to be the kind brother." Ed barked a short laugh, then sobered. "We should check on Minxia."

They returned to the main camp, and found Thrakos, Minxia, Will, and the site medic in the couple's tent. Minxia was conscious again, and an empty plate and glass made it clear she had both eaten and drunk.

Thrakos still looked on the edge of panic, but Minx and the medic were both calm. Will didn't seem panicked either. In fact, he was smiling. "I told you she was fine," he said to his son-in-law.

The medic was nodding patiently. "You're both fine," he said firmly, though he was shaking his head. "I have never seen that kind of energy expended on anything…. With the exception of the other day," he added, glancing at Ed. "But don't do it again. You're already burning enough energy."

Minxia just nodded with uncharacteristic meekness.

The medic stood and left.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Minxia, who was leaning back against Thrakos, using him as a backrest, apologized softly.

"You can't go running into the face of death like that," Thrakos scolded, though there was no anger behind it. "You scared the hell out of me. How was I supposed to know that kind of transmutation was safe in your condition?"

"Remind me to tell you about some of the things Ren has done," Will chuckled.

"No thanks." Thrakos shook his head, and Ed was fairly certain the other man had reached his limit for the day.

Everything was fine. Minxia was all right. The baby was all right, and Vennson couldn't threaten to damage any more priceless artifacts, at least for a while. "I don't think we're needed here, Al," he said softly. "Where's Tore?"

"He said he was going to call Central and report in, after he had a few words with Drakk," Al replied.

"Good, let's go see how that's going." He left the tent, Al following. Ed was unsurprised when Will quietly joined them, leaving the lovebirds alone.

 **June 30th, 1986**

It was the evening before Alexei would be leaving Central to return to North City, and once again Gloria was enjoying the pleasure of his company, for the third time that week. She would have been quite happy if it had been every night, but Alexei's work included enough interviews and making the magazine look good to the people who wanted to be in it, and sometimes that meant business dinners, and other times it meant long nights. When he worked, that meant hours of writing even while he was on location. Writing, rewriting, photography; sometimes going back for a new photo if one didn't turn out the way he wanted. He was very devoted to his work, and so Gloria was grateful to get any of his time at all.

The best part was that he had made that time in his schedule himself. Three dates in a week was far more than she could have hoped for, and while she didn't call them that out loud, she wasn't sure what else to call being taken out to her favorite restaurants in town, and treated to meals and an enjoyable evening by a handsome gentleman.  
Still, he was leaving in the morning, and then it would just be another long, normal summer in Central. A much more boring summer. The past two nights, Alexei had taken her to the art gallery opening he was covering as his guest, a concert in the park, and now along on a photo shoot for his own personal enjoyment at the Central Zoo.

"I didn't realize you were so into animals," she admitted, smiling as she watched him carefully setting up a perfect angle on the white Drachman tiger in her enclosure as she lounged across a large flat rock.

"They're captivating," he replied, grinning without looking away from his subject. "Each one is unique, beautiful, and they make great subjects for natural shots because they almost never care about the camera."

"So you like that they don't pose."

He nodded ever so slightly and adjusted his tripod. "I do. Animals don't try to pretend to be something they're not, and so by not posing, they prove to be some of the best models ever."

Gloria came around in front of him-but not in front of his camera-and leaned against the metal railing at the top of the enclosure. Below her was the deep concrete moat that separated them from the tiger. "So modeling should look natural."

"This is one of the reasons I do not work for a fashion magazine," Alexei admitted with a chuckle. "I don't like their models or the way they pose them."

"You don't?" Gloria looked back at him curiously. She couldn't remember the last time she had met a man who wouldn't have said he liked looking at the models in some of those magazines.

"They're nice looking women," he acknowledged without looking up, "But the poses are so often unnatural, and so much make-up. I prefer natural beauty. A flower doesn't try to be beautiful. A sunset doesn't have to try to be spectacular. They just are. The tiger doesn't have to pose for me to demonstrate that she is gorgeous and strong. She just _is._ "

"And, what about me?" she couldn't help asking, though a tiny voice in the back of her mind was mortified that she dared. What did he think of her, with her fashionable clothes and hairstyles? She didn't go to the extent many did, but she liked dressing up, and she liked how she looked when she did, though she didn't do it all the time. Like tonight, when he had told her to dress casually, so she had opted for light blue denim pants and a short-sleeved lavender blouse.

Alexei's head came up. For just a moment, she thought she might have caught him speechless. Then he chuckled, and straightened up. "You are the flower, and the sunset, and the tiger."

Gloria's heart could have stopped right then, and she would have been perfectly happy. Instead, it fluttered wildly at the sound of his words, and the way he met her eyes.  
He moved up beside her. "You always look like you. You're fashionable, and stylish, but you never overdo it. You enhance what is _you…_ I'm not sure I'm making sense," he cut off then with a laugh.

"No, keep going," Gloria urged, smiling. "No one's ever compared me to a tiger before." Given how much he had complimented the tiger, she rather liked it.

Alexei's face flushed slightly in the late afternoon sunlight. "You never try to be something you're not. That's what I like about you. You're natural, unique, and beautiful, and you don't try to do it like everyone else does it. But you don't try too hard either… it's…." he cut off again, clearly searching for the right words. "You're you, and you're proud to be you, and you don't change yourself for others, you just do what makes you happy."

Now that made sense. Gloria felt herself flush with pleasure from head to toe, and hoped she wasn't blushing too badly. "I like you the way you are too." Compared to his words, hers sounded hopelessly plain, but she meant them.

His delighted smile told her he liked them too. "Gloria, I know we live a long… long ways apart, but I have liked you since the first time we met. The more time we spend together, the more time I _want_ to spend with you. Not just letters and phone calls...though I enjoy those," he assured her. "You have to finish school, and I can't move right now, but I'd like to see if we can make something work, try it out, at least for a while."

"If you're asking if I'd like our relationship to get more serious, than I accept," Gloria finally cut in, as cute as it was to watch him struggle to find the right words for something for once. "I've only got three more years, and then wherever I go will depend on where I can find work." At least she had options. Most cities had newspapers and magazines. Now some even were starting to have their own television stations. Surely, she would be able to find work somewhere closer to him than East City.  
Alexei smiled. "We can see what I can do then. For now, we should just enjoy what we have. May I kiss you?"

She melted again. How many men asked permission instead of assuming? Gloria stretched up, having to get nearly up on her toes to bring her face even with his. "Please do." Then their lips met, and talking stopped.

Behind her, the tiger roared.

 **July 1st, 1986**

"Yes, yes, we'll be on the train home in two days," Ed laughingly assured Winry over the phone.

"Good. You should get out of there before you cause any more damage."

"What damage? I told you, Minxia did all the big, flashy alchemy. I just wrapped it up."

"You're lucky none of you were arrested for damaging that man's property."

"He was trying to destroy government property, Winry," Ed reminded her. "They thanked us."

He could imagine her shaking her head on the other end of the line in Resembool. "Well, it will be good to have you home. Mal's almost forgotten who you are."

"Oh he has not." Ed chuckled. "I can't wait to get home to both of you."

"Are Thrakos and Minxia going back to Pylos soon?" Winry asked curiously.

"Depends on how you define soon," Ed admitted, shaking his head slightly at Al's granddaughter's stubborn Elric pride. "Minxia is very protective of this dig, but Thrakos has convinced her they need to be home in time for his mother's birthday next month. They finally called and told his parents about the baby, and his mother has apparently gone a little nuts with planning already."

"As is a grandmother's prerogative," Winry said sagely. "Well, good for them. I hope they're enjoying themselves."

Ed knew she meant the pregnancy, and the anticipation of parenthood. "They are," he assured her. "Though I think Thrakos will be happy when they're comfortably at home, and Minxia stops running at bulldozers."

Again, that silent shaking of the head feeling. "See you in a couple of weeks. I love you."

"Love you too." Ed hung up the phone, and felt his first twinge of homesickness. The mission was over. While he would look forward to regular updates on the work here, it was not his work. He, Al, Will, and Tore had done what they came to do, and now it was time to return to the rest of their families.

He ignored the ache in his stumps as he made his way back to his tent to pack. It would be good to be home.

 **July 5th, 1986**

"I wish you didn't have to go already," Lily said as she hugged first Lia, then Ethan tightly goodbye.

"Already? We've only been here a few weeks," Ethan chuckled, but he squeezed his daughter back just as tightly. "Besides, I think the Everharts would like the guest room." Randy's parents had arrived over a week before, and had been staying in a nearby inexpensive motel. "And their own alone time with all of you."

"I know, but that doesn't mean we won't miss you," Lily smiled as she stood back, and claimed one of the twins from Randy's very full arms. In the morning light they were a slightly dazed, tired looking, but very happy little family.

"We'll call often," Lia assured her as Ethan bent to pick up their suitcases. They were taking the bus to the train station to save Randy having to leave. His parents were coming over with their own things in the next hour. "Make sure you send me lots of pictures."

"We will, Mom!"

"Good."

Finally, Ethan and Lia managed to get themselves out the door. They walked downstairs and out into the bright heat and sunshine of a typical East City summer day. It was only when they reached the bus stop that Ethan broke the silence. "It almost feels weird going home."

"I know, but if you're gone any longer, Ren will take your name off the practice," Lia teased. "And I'm fairly certain our other children would like to see us again." She was as grateful as Ethan was that Aeddan and Eamon had been all right in the house without them the past few weeks, since Eamon had arrived back from Pylos for the summer. He had worried a little at leaving his oldest son in charge of his youngest, but they got along all right, and they were old enough now to be responsible.

"No she wouldn't. Then she'd have to permanently take my patient load." Ethan slipped one arm around his wife's waist. "I just hope the house is still in one piece."

"Eamon assured me on the phone that he and Aeddan have been cleaning regularly. Which, I'm sure means that they will at least do a very deep cleaning job before we get back, so that's what really matters, isn't it?"

He chuckled. "As long as it's clean, that's all I care about"

"Oh really?" Lia glanced sideways at him. "Because I saw the most interesting curtains while I was out picking up more diapers last week, and I was thinking it was time to redecorate the living room."

Ethan had no idea what these curtains might look like, but he trusted Lia's taste. He shrugged. "I'd like to _look_ at them," he admitted, "But I'm not opposed to redecorating."

"Great! I'm fairly certain they have them in the Silverman's catalog. If not, Lily said she would pick them up for me the next time she can get out of the house."

"Which could be weeks."

"That's all right. It will give me time to consider matching slipcovers for the couches and the armchair."

 **July 10** **th** **, 1986**

Shelby's face was flushed and happy as she came through the door to the shop almost half an hour early. Charlie was glad everyone else had already gone home, or she might have blown their little secret rendezvous spot.

Still, he'd closed the shop up and was just finishing cleaning himself off. "Hey babe," Charlie pulled her close, kissing her passionately. "You look excited. Something up?"

Shelby nodded. "Big news." She pulled out a sheet of paper. "Look."

Charlie looked down at it, noting the medical looking header. It took him several seconds to realize it was from a local women's clinic…and several more to absorb the information on the sheet. "You're pregnant."

Shelby nodded, still wide-eyed, but she was smiling. "Ten weeks. I heard the heartbeat. It was… amazing."

His stomach lurched, but her happiness made it difficult to not smile back. "That's great! Do your parents know?"

Shelby shook her head. "No. I didn't tell them I was going, and the doctors have a strict privacy policy. I'm not going to tell them until I have to. This… this is ours."

Part of Charlie was terrified, but a little part of him was excited. There was nothing her parents could do now. Having a child would be one of those airtight reasons for a marriage he couldn't see an official saying no to. All they had to do, for now, was keep it quiet until then. Ten weeks… he tried doing math… that would mean the baby would come sometime in February. "Oh, Shels," he held her close, kissing her again. "I love you so much. Wow… a baby. Are you feeling okay?" It occurred to him he knew next to nothing about pregnancy outside of what they'd been taught in sex ed. How should she be feeling now?

She nodded. "A little sick in the morning just this week, but not bad yet. That's why I was suspicious. Now I know why I've been starving lately." Shelby smiled, but she looked unsure. "So, you're happy?"

"Thrilled," he promised. "And I'll take good care of you. Both of you," he amended. "Forever. There's nothing that can make me happier than being with you, than a family with you."

Shelby started tearing up and hugged him again. "I'm so glad! It's silly, but I was worried this would change things."

"It does," he pointed out, holding her gently. "It just makes everything even better."


	11. Part 2-1 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**September 9** **th** **, 1986**

Brandon Closson had a good feeling about high school. Maybe it was how well the pre-season soccer camp had gone, and how easily he had been accepted on the team even as a new freshman, despite being the youngest new student in the school. Or perhaps it was because he had gotten into all the courses he wanted. It could be because his mother had not objected to his request to update his wardrobe, hairstyle, and backpack to be more current with what was _in_ at the high school instead of middle school. Already being the youngest, he really hadn't wanted to look the part.

Really, the _best_ thing about the first day of school, so far, was walking into his homeroom with his list of classes, and seeing his best female friend -the object of years of childhood crush- Julia Stevens, assigned to the same class. He grinned as he crossed the crowded room. "Julia!" he waved a little to be seen through the crush. No one was in their seats yet.

"Brandon!" Julia threw her arms around him. "Oh my gosh, I'm so glad! When Iris and I found out that we wouldn't be in the same homeroom, we about cried but I'm so happy we're together!"

Desperate panic flooded him as Julia hugged him tightly, right there, in front of the other students. All he could hope was that no one else was paying attention as he smiled, and stepped back a little before the teacher, Mrs. Bedlington-who also taught Amestrian-might see them and get onto them for public affection. He smiled and tried to make it casual. "Me too! I didn't think I'd know anyone, but it's nice to have a good friend in class. What's your schedule look like?" he asked curiously, holding up his own paper.

Julia pulled her own schedule from a flower-patterned binder, "Well, obviously here first. I have math next, you?"

"I've got History after that." Two periods together already, that was awesome! Brandon tried to see her schedule. "We should just trade and look," he suggested. It would be easier than looking around her paper or halfway around her shoulders. When had he gotten taller than her?

"Our schedules are almost identical!" Julia exclaimed after the trade. She crinkled her nose, "Except I do art while you go to choir. I knew I should have gone for choir! I couldn't decide which one to go with, but I figured I should know some sort of drawing for when I want to storyboard for a script I'm writing."

She would have liked identical schedules. Somewhere inside, Brandon felt warm. He grinned. "You'll be great at art."

Julia blew her bangs away from her forehead, "That means the only place I might not know anyone will be art, but I guess that's ok. I'm actually looking forward to it! Are you going to go for the fall musical? I also figured I could do singing there, since I couldn't do both art and choir."

"Yeah, I was thinking about it," Brandon admitted. That was one of the things he'd been looking forward in high school. So even though they hadn't been there more than a few minutes, he had given thought to trying out for plays all summer. "I mean, we're taking theatre too. It just makes sense. That, and I really want to sing something other than choral music every once in a while, and _West City Story_ has fun numbers." He had seen signs for it in the hallways on the way in.

"I'm so excited to audition!" Julia gushed. "I mean, I know we're freshman and all, but it'll still be so much fun! Maybe one of us could get a solo!"

Her enthusiasm was something Brandon had always liked about Julia. It was infectious. He chuckled. "Maybe!" He could hope anyway. The worst of his voice break seemed to have, thankfully, hit over the summer, and it hadn't cracked during a song in almost a month. He hoped that the range it seemed to be settling into stayed. While it seemed to be going baritone, he could still hit tenor parts. There were a lot of really good musical parts for tenors and high baritones. "We've still got time before auditions to practice."

"Sure, I think my mom has the soundtrack somewhere around the house. I could bring it over sometime and we could sing along!" Julia offered excitedly.

"Cute _and_ brilliant, I knew I liked you for a reason," Brandon chuckled. "That would be fantastic. My parents like seeing shows, but they don't usually buy records of them."

Julia smiled as her cheeks colored, "Oh stop that. How am I brilliant because my mom likes to collect soundtracks?"

"You're brilliant because you thought of them to study from," Brandon replied. He'd thought that part was obvious, but apparently she hadn't. "The fact that you have access to it is just a bonus."

"Well, anyone could have thought to sing along," Julia waved her hand, trying to be dismissive, but the compliment clearly pleased her. "I wish all of our classes could be as fun as being in a musical! Wouldn't it be great if Mrs. Bedlington suddenly sang about the Ishavallan conflict or did a dance to the Soapman Incident?"

"What makes you think I won't?"

A woman's voice behind them made Brandon turn, and he found himself facing his Amestrian Literature-and-homeroom teacher. She was middle-aged, with greying-brown hair that was up in a braid, thin-rimmed glasses, and yet there seemed to be humor behind her eyes. As teachers go, he had heard she was strict, but nice as long as you stayed off her bad side. "Do you sing, Ma'am?" he asked politely.

"Theatre is literature too," she replied enigmatically, and smiled.

"If you sang something for your class that would be so cool!" Julia said enthusiastically.

"If my students are particularly good, I do sing… sometimes." She moved away. "All right, everyone," she called the room to order without barely having to raise her voice. "Please take your seats so I can take role and we can go over some high school survival skills!"

Which meant the rules, Brandon was pretty sure, but he liked how she said it. "These seats look good," he motioned to the two they were standing by, which were empty and right next to each other. "Want to sit together?"

"Sure!" Julia bounced to the closest seat. "This is going to be a fantastic year! I can't wait!"

Brandon was definitely feeling positive about the year. High School might just be everything he'd heard, and more.

 **September 12** **th** **, 1986**

Being back in school that fall was strange, and yet wonderful at the same time, because they had a plan, and so far it was all moving forward. The difficult part for Charlie was the school day, when he and Shelby had to pretend they hadn't spoken in months and had moved on with their lives. Only Gill and Marlie knew any part of the truth, and that was only that their best friends were still dating. Charlie and Shelby hadn't told them yet about the wedding plan, or about the baby. Shelby had continued to make her one-a-month visits to the clinic in private when her parents thought she was out with friends or studying in the library over the summer.

On the outside, little had changed, and their sensation of the previous spring seemed to have been forgotten over the summer by most gossips. Charlie continued his usual stretch of being a mediocre student who didn't go in for many school activities. Shelby continued to be the fashionable, popular girl in the middle of anything. It would have seemed strange if their patterns had changed and it was easier to keep up the ruse with familiar routines. So Shelby took her positions as Student Body Vice President, President of the Literary Club, and lead on several school committees, including dance planning and the cultural festival. Charlie felt it was probably a good thing she wasn't a cheerleader, because otherwise her condition would have been more obvious much sooner.

However, Charlie was impressed by Shelby's forethought. The new fashion trend that fall was full of loose, drapey lines, multiple layers, and whimsical cuts. By choosing to buy clothes in the new trend for school-which her mother had been quite happy to purchase- Shelby was able to wear clothes that hit her slowly growing waistline. Not that it was that noticeable, Charlie felt. At least, not if you weren't looking for it. _He_ knew what to look for, but that was only because he saw her naked at least twice a week, even with their shortened work hours with school in session. Shelby had said the doctor said she was carrying deep, which explained, he supposed, why her belly wasn't as prominent yet as he had expected. Shelby had told him her mother, and her aunts, had also carried deep and small, so it wasn't unusual in her family. However, that worked to their plan. Charlie's one fear was that someone-particularly her parents- would find out Shelby was pregnant before they could get married.

Tonight, they had met up for a short, sweet evening after work. Cuddled on the couch above the automotive shop, after an eager make-out session, Charlie relished the feel of her in his arms. In less than three months, he wouldn't have to sneak around to be with her anymore. One they were married, no one would be able to get between them anymore. Then he could enjoy the sweet anticipation of their coming baby without worrying all the time about being caught. His hand slid down her side and rested on the subtle bulge of her stomach. He sighed contentedly.

"What?" Shelby shifted, her voice drowsy. Lately she was tired all the time, and he knew pretending to be energetic at school just took it out of her even more.

"Oh, I was just thinking, this is going to be the cutest kid on the planet." He kissed her ear affectionately. "Boy or girl, I hope it looks like you."

"Oh, I don't know. You're awfully cute." The corner of her mouth that he could see from behind her twitched up in a smile. "I just wish we could tell our friends about the baby. Marlie is getting suspicious."

"What do you mean?" He felt a nervous tic in his stomach.

"Oh, I don't think she knows," Shelby assured him quickly. "But she's my best friend. Eventually, she's going to know something's going on. I mean, besides the fact that we still talk."

Charlie thought about Gill, and how he hadn't told his best friend the whole truth either. It made him feel like a bad friend, but he knew it would be better for everyone if they didn't know until closer to December. The fewer people who knew, the less chance there was of someone's mouth slipping. "We'll tell them eventually. I mean, they'll have to know if they're going to be our witnesses," he said, hoping to reassure her.

Shelby nodded. "I know, and I'll be glad when this is all out in the open. I never thought it would be this weird hiding something from my parents but… it's almost like they haven't even noticed. Mom was thrilled that I wanted to "update my wardrobe.""

"We'll have to do more than that soon." They had already tucked away a few items, safely up here in a cabinet that Charlie knew no one ever looked in. That included a couple of thrift store buys in maternity wear for when Shelby couldn't wear her other clothes anymore. Not that she could wear them to school, but hopefully by the time she was obviously pregnant, they would be married. "What should we get first?" he asked, trying to lighten his own mood again. It didn't do to worry too much about things. Not yet.

"Well, I did see some really cute baby clothes at the thrift store. They were in neutral colors, so they'd be good for a girl or a boy."

"Next time you're there, get them. I'll cover it," Charlie promised. One thing he was determined to do was provide everything he could for his family.

 **September 15th, 1986**

"Yes Dare, everything is fine here. Yes, I talked with Lorraine's mother yesterday and everything is going smoothly."

Tore walked into the kitchen quietly, not wanting to disturb Charisa on the phone. Or, more accurately, he wanted to eavesdrop on his wife and eldest son's conversation. Ever since Dare and Lorraine had decided they wanted to have their wedding back in Central over the winter holidays, while Lorraine had a break from classes and Dare from training, it seemed that almost everything Tore heard hard to do with wedding plans. Charisa and Deborah, Lorraine's mother, had teamed up to do most of the planning themselves, based on what Lorraine and Dare wanted.

"Yes," Charisa repeated again emphatically. "We've booked the dining room at the country club, and the band Lorraine requested is also on contract. The catalog for flowers and the one for the cakes both went in the mail yesterday so you can both take a look at them when they arrive in a few days and let me know what you want. We circled the ones that closest matched what you both described."

Tore took off his uniform jacket, tossed it over the back of one of the chairs at the little breakfast table, and reached for the coffee pot, which was already steaming with a pot of after-work gourmet heaven. From the scent coming from the oven, he suspected Charisa's fabulous sausage-and-vegetable lasagna was on the menu. He wondered what magic she had pulled at work in order to get home early enough to get food in the oven, before remembering that she had put it together the night before and had probably pulled it out of the fridge and stuck it in when she got home.

By the time Charisa hung up, Tore had finished his first cup of coffee, poured a second, kicked off his boots, and read half of the comics on the back page of the newspaper that was still sitting on the table. "Nice to hear our son is as calm and with it as ever," he quipped as she hung up the receiver.

"He just wants to make sure everything is the way Lorraine wants it, like any good husband," Charisa replied with a little smile as she bent over enough to kiss him. Tore twisted his head around just enough to comply

"So it was Lorraine's idea to have chocolate cake?" he asked when their lips parted.

"They both like chocolate cake." Charisa sat down in the chair next to him and pulled her daily planner over, making notes in the margins. "I think it's great that they've both talked over all the details. Some men don't care about the details as long as they get married."

"Not everyone is good at details," Tore reminded her, though it was in good nature. "Though I'm fond of yours."

"Only you could turn a discussion about wedding planning for our son into a come on."

"And you love it."

After a moment, she chuckled and shook her head. "Yes, yes I do."

"Speaking of sons. Where's Brandon?" he asked, regarding their high school freshman son.

"He finished his homework early and went to the mall with his friends."

"And Cami?"

"Across the street at Danielle's house," Charisa replied, making more notes in the planner. "She promised to be home in time for dinner and they wanted to do their homework together."

"What did we ever do to deserve responsible kids?" Tore asked, sipping his coffee. His own academic career, and dropping out of high school to study for the State Alchemy exam, were hardly an exemplary model.

"We raised them that way." Charisa's tone held distinct fondness as she spoke of their children. "And at least one of us was a model student, you might remember."

"Yeah, I know. Model student, model athlete, body of a model…" Tore grinned. "And now model Assemblywoman." Of that last, he was particularly proud. Charisa had worked in the Assembly for years, for a number of different Assemblymen during their time in office. It was only in the past year that she had finally been elected to one of the _big desks_ , as he thought of them, in her own right. Given the Assembly was only about ten percent women, that was an accomplishment above and beyond even being qualified.

"All of which take hard work, organization, and attention to detail."

"Which is why you're so good at them," Tore agreed. Charisa also never complained about any of those things. He had learned long ago to keep his complaints at work, and out of the hearing of his children and his wife. It wasn't that Charisa didn't understand it when he got frustrated with his work-or him when it came to hers- it was just that they had long ago decided that if they didn't want their children to complain about hard work, they both had to set that example. Besides, the griping at work was more cultural than anything else. Dare had probably learned that himself by now, being stationed in North City.

"You know we don't have time for sex before the kids get home."

"Did I ask?" Tore asked.

"You tossed in extra flattery."

Okay, so she knew him too well. "Fine, I'll ask again later. Right now, how about I toss us up a salad to go with that lasagna?"

"Now you just sound desperate."

"Or maybe I'm craving spinach," Tore teased as he stood, kissing her cheek as he straightened up.

"I told you you needed more iron."

"I thought you meant at the gym." Tore opened the refrigerator and pulled out the container of small-leafed spinach and set it on the counter before reaching in again for the tomatoes and fresh mushrooms.

"No, I think you're okay on that count."

Tore grinned without turning around. He reached for the wooden chopping board and a vegetable knife. "Are you staring at my ass, Madame Assemblywoman?"

"I don't stare," Charisa replied primly. "I appreciate."

It was a good thing the younger two kids weren't home, Tore thought, or they would have traumatized them both. 

* * *

_Author's Note: 3/29/2017 Nice little time jump here to Fall. Haven't gotten to check in on Tore and Charisa in a while! Also a little cameo from one of Purplefire's characters. This one being Noelle and Jean "Havoc" Stevens' 2nd oldest child, their daughter Julia. ;)_


	12. Part 2-2 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**September 22nd, 1986**

Brandon Closson tried not to be nervous as he waited in a seat in the auditorium with almost a hundred-and-fifty other students for his turn to take the stage for auditions for the school's fall musical. He knew full well that being a freshman-and the youngest one in the school at that- he probably didn't have a shot at a major part. He'd be in the chorus, like any new untried guy, but that would be okay. Maybe if he was fortunate and gave a good impression of his talents and maturity, he could manage a decent supporting part with lines.

There were three parts to the audition, and he was actually grateful that they were starting him off in the singing group. He had been in choir all through middle school, and it was probably the area where he had the most confidence. This, at least, he knew he could do well! He wasn't too worried about acting either, but dancing made him nervous. He had been put in the rotation that would hit the dancing audition in the middle. Then it would be over with and he could still make a good impression with his acting and end on a high note.

"Closson," the choir director called his name. He didn't hear anything in her tone that might have said whether or not she was glad to see him auditioning. He had been in class with her for two weeks, so hopefully that would also work to his advantage.

Brandon stood and walked briskly up onto the stage so he wouldn't keep them waiting. He didn't rush; he didn't want to appear nervous. Still, he hoped his smile was more relaxed than he felt as he took his spot center stage and looked at the teachers in the second row. "My name is Brandon Closson and I will be singing the opening of Rialo and Misha's duet from _Never Lose Hope._ " The duet began with a full verse of the male romantic lead singing, and it was just the right length for an audition piece, and right in his range. Brandon nodded to the pianist, who played a one bar intro. Then Brandon opened his mouth, and sang.

* * *

"Julia!" Iris raced towards her friend. Skidding to a stop, Iris gushed, "Ohmygod, Julia! The musical auditions! Ohmygod, Brandon can sing!"

"Of course he can sing," Julia scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "He's been in choir the entire time we've been in junior high. They wouldn't keep him around if he sang off key like a troll!"

"That's just in a group though!" Iris continued. "Have you heard him sing by himself?"

"Sure, lots of times!" Julia answered, thinking of all the times she had studied at Brandon's house over the years. "He'll hum a tune or sing a line or two of something while we study."

"You knew?" Iris gasped. "How could you keep this to yourself?"

"Keep what to myself?" Julia frowned. "You're acting weird."

"Julia, how could you not swoon every time you heard him sing?" Iris threw her hands in the air. "That boy's voice is divine!"

"I admit he sounds nice," Julia agreed.

"Just nice? Have you heard some of the other boys singing?" Iris sighed with exasperation. "Oh why do I bother? You never look at any of the boys I've gushed about. Do you think he likes anyone?"

"Who, Brandon?" asked Julia. "I don't know. He's never said anything to me about that."

"Are you sure? You two are always hanging out, so I didn't want to butt in."

Julia blinked with surprise, "Wait, you think Brandon likes me?"

"Everyone says so," Iris pointed out. "In fact, Claudia was just saying after gym that maybe she should give Brandon a try, since he got so cute over the summer. But then Nicola said that Claudia shouldn't even try, since everyone knows Brandon hangs out with you."

"Wait, Claudia thinks Brandon is cute?" Julia asked. "Claudia who wouldn't even consider someone unless they are cuter than her current movie star crush of the week Claudia?"

"Yeah," Iris nodded.

"And they think Brandon likes me?" Julia was nonplussed. How could anyone think that?

"Of course," Iris said as if the answer was obvious. "So, you're telling me that you don't like Brandon in that way? Because I'm your best friend and we pinky swore to never let boys come between us."

"No, I've never ever considered Brandon that way!" Julia said defensively.

"Right, because you had to fall in love with his older, unattainable brother," Iris smirked. "Girl, you really are blind."

"We're just friends," Julia insisted.

"Good," Iris replied. "That means he's totally free for the taking! I'll see if he wants to hang out sometime, like maybe at the game this Friday night! I'll let you know how it goes! Gotta move in before Claudia does!"

Julia gave a halfhearted wave of encouragement, but she kept returning to the thought that everyone thought she and Brandon liked each other. And now Iris was going to try to date him? Jealousy suddenly rose as Julia thought, _how could Iris think of dating Brandon? He's_ my _friend!_

 **September 24th, 1986**

Brandon was grateful that the high school locker rooms actually had better showers than the middle school, because by the time he finished soccer practice he definitely needed them. Not that he was the only one. Coach Danze pushed them all really hard, but his game had improved even more than he had anticipated, and he had already been told that the coach was going to let him play in the first game and see how it went. It had only made him redouble his efforts. That, and his nerves about the fact they hadn't yet posted casting for _West City Story.  
_  
He was on his way to the late bus when he spotted Julia coming up from the other direction. He grinned. "Hey, Julia!" he grinned as he fell into step beside her.

Julia smiled back. "Hey Brandon, Iris talked to me today. Did she ask you out?"

Brandon wasn't surprised by her blunt statement of what was on her mind. It was one of the things he had always liked about her. Though he hadn't expected her to bring up the conversation he'd had with Iris yesterday. He'd honestly already forgotten it until she brought it up. He shrugged. "Yeah, she asked me to hang out. Why?"

"Only to hang out? Because I thought for sure she would ask you on a date the way she was talking earlier." From her expression, he wasn't sure what kind of answer she was expecting.

He paused as her words sunk in. Oh! That was what Iris had meant. Well, he felt a little silly now. "I ah… I told her I was busy," he admitted.

Julia let out a breath. "Oh, that's a relief! Oh, that's not what I meant! I mean, you're both my friends and all and wouldn't it get awkward with me being the third wheel if you two started dating?"

"Why would I date Iris?" Brandon wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but it was not at all where he had expected. He'd never even considered dating Iris, or that she might be interested in him like that. They'd never talked all that much, unless they happened to both be hanging out with Julia.

"Because," Julia started with a squeak, her cheeks coloring. "Everyone thinks we're dating so she asked if we were and I told her no because why would we be dating? So she wanted to know if you were free."

Brandon suddenly understood the meaning of the phrase 'mind blown.' "Everyone thinks we're dating?"

"That's what Iris said!" Julia said miserably. "Look, I know it shouldn't matter this much to me or not, but you're really not going to date Iris?"

"Of course not," Brandon blurted out. "She's not my type. Besides, it's not like I have any free time right now, right?" Besides which, Julia was the only girl he had ever been interested in.

Julia chuckled nervously, "I know, right? Who has time for dating right now? Especially if you'd be worried about a jealous best friend hiding around every corner. Ok, I'm just going to walk away now before I put my foot in my mouth any farther!"

His brief surge of hope died at her words. Of course, Julia wouldn't want Iris to be jealous of her either. He had thought, just for a moment, that maybe Julia was jealous.

Maybe...maybe she did like him that way. "Don't forget," he called after her. "We're still studying for math tomorrow afternoon after practice, right?"

"Oh!" Julia stopped with another nervous chuckle, "Yeah, if that's all right."

"Of course it's all right," Brandon smiled. "I've always got time for you."

"Yeah, just like always," Julia returned the smile as she turned to head off to class.

Brandon watched her go, wondering what she had meant, and why she was nervous if she wasn't interested, and if he would ever understand women.

 **September 26th, 1986  
**  
Charisa barely had her keys up to put them in the lock in the door when it came open beneath her hands and Brandon's broadly grinning face greeted her as he opened the door all the way. "I got a part!"

Well, at least she hadn't had to ask. A burst of joy and pride filled her as she smiled back, and a day's worth of hard decisions and work fell away. "Brandon, that's wonderful! Let me put my things down and you can tell me all about it."

"I've got it," he grabbed her briefcase, and helped her out of her suit jacket. "There's coffee in the kitchen, and I made cookies."

"You really are in a good mood," she chuckled as she let him take over, and followed him into the kitchen, where two trays of chocolate chip hazelnut cookies were cooling on the counter.

"Who wouldn't be?" he asked as he poured her coffee, added cream and sugar, and set it down in front of her with a plate of cookies. He joined her with a glass of milk.

"Doesn't Camelia want to join us?" Charisa asked.

"No I don't!" her daughter called from the living room. "He's been talking my ear off and singing for an hour!"

Ah, Fridays; the day when both of her children beat her home by more than an hour. It was the only evening Brandon hadn't had late practices. Now he would have practices _and_ rehearsals. "All right," she gave Brandon her full attention. "Tell me everything."

He paused, clearly wanting to give the moment a suspenseful build up. "I'm playing Ray!"

"That's great!" Charisa had seen _West City Story_ on stage with her family when she was in high school, and had always been fond of the production. While it wasn't one of the romantic leads-she was rather grateful for that-Ray was a major supporting role. He was the leader of one of the two rival gangs, and the best friend of Toby, the male lead. "You'll be fantastic at Ray."

"I still almost can't believe it," Brandon admitted before biting into a cookie. "I mean, I knew I did fine in the singing audition, and the acting, but I was sure I'd blown it in the dancing audition for anything big."

"If I remember correctly, most of Ray's part is singing and acting," Charisa smiled over her cup of coffee. She took a sip. Perfect. "The non-speaking members of the gangs do most of the dancing anyway."

"Yeah, I hadn't realized that." Brandon washed the cookie down with a drink of milk. "But it works out for me! Mr. Bowman said they liked my spunk...and apparently, I look appropriately scrappy. I hope that's a compliment."

"In this case it is." Scrappy was not a word she had ever associated with Brandon, but maybe that was because while he loved his sport, he wasn't overly aggressive and never got in fights. He was, in many ways, Tore's opposite in that respect. She was grateful for it. "So when do rehearsals start?"

"Monday. Thankfully, they're after sports practices, but there's also going to be some weekends when we don't have games. I'm not the only guy on the team in the play, so at least the teachers are cooperative on scheduling."

Charisa remembered her father's joking about the chaos of having busy kids when she and Niam had been in school, with their sports and clubs and other activities. Now that hers were that age, she understood both the playful kidding in his complaints, and the tired joy behind them. Though with Dare grown and out, it was slightly less insane. At least until Camelia had more of a selection. Then, she was probably doomed. "That is nice of them. When I was in school they weren't always. So, we should celebrate. Let's go out for dinner. I can't imagine your father will mind on a Friday evening. Where would you like to go?"

"I can pick?" Brandon's face brightened further, if that was possible.

"Of course. You're the man of the hour."

"Great! Because we haven't been out for Cretan in forever!"

"Then Cretan it is."

"Do we have to?" Camelia sighed, appearing in the kitchen doorway with a book still in hand.

Charisa gave her daughter a curious look. "I thought you liked Cretan food."

"I do, but every time we go Brandon steals my cucumber sauce!"

"I promise not to steal your cucumber sauce," Brandon replied with a suddenly very solemn face.

Camelia gave him a skeptical look. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Brandon's somber expression broke. "Then prepare to be amazed."


	13. Part 2-3 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**October 21st, 1986**

Alphonse refused to let Gracia exclaim that it was all too much. However, he did grin irrepressibly as he and Elicia, assisted by Edward and Winry, decorated the house for what was to be the biggest birthday bash he thought they had ever thrown, and that was saying something. "You're the first member of the family to turn one-hundred," he reminded her as he draped colored checked tablecloths in pale blues, greens, and rose, over three long folding tables set out in the backyard to collect food and presents. Edward was standing in the small outdoor kitchen Al had installed a few years ago, preparing meat for grilling, as well as seafood and vegetables. Winry and Elicia were inside, putting the finishing touches on what promised to be an amazing three-layered birthday cake big enough for a wedding. Of course, given the number of guests coming over that afternoon, it might as well be! The majority of the family-anyone in Central, or who could make it to Central in the middle of October-would be in attendance. It was a shame Minxia and Thrakos weren't coming, but understandable given the distance. Lily and Randy had classes, jobs, and the twins. Michio and Kamika were both in Xing. Eamon was at school in Pylos. Gloria was probably the most upset of the out-of-town family, since it was her great-grandmother, but she couldn't miss classes either, so she had sent presents and a card. All of them had promised to call on the day of the party.

"The first of hopefully many," Gracia smiled. "I'd like to have some friends and family with me into the next century."

Al chuckled. "I think it's Armstrong next." Then, if he remembered right, Falman, Riza, Feury, then Sciezka. After that, it came down to them, which was still hard to imagine, even at his age, if only because in his mind none of them were as old as they looked, and he rarely felt old. Oh, maybe a little when young people asked him if the Ishval Massacre in the movies was fictional or not, or if he predated radio.

"I can only imagine what that party will be like, if there's all this fuss over me." Gracia chuckled.

"If anyone deserves it, you do," Al assured her with a warm smile. "You've been a mother, or grandmother, or like a mother, and a friend, to all of us. Ed and I have always appreciated your kindness. I appreciate that you let me marry your daughter."

Gracia's smile turned into a laugh. "I can't imagine it having been anyone else."

"This wouldn't be nearly as fun a party." Al finished straightening the last cloth and stood up, ignoring the crack his back gave as he stood up. Being creaky came with living this long and having his own body; he'd still take it.

Everything was ready by the time it was time for the party to start. Balloons were blown up-because who didn't like balloons?- streamers were hung, food was prepared, huge bouquets of flowers towered on the living room table, the coffee table, and one on the table outside. Some were from family, others from friends who couldn't make it into town. Nevertheless, it was going to be quite the bash.

When guests began arriving, Al was glad the weather was unseasonably beautiful for a fall day in Central. The trees were still thickly leaved in red and gold, the grass was green, and late flowering chrysanthemums in yellow, purple, and brownish-red made the back yard lush and inviting.

Alyse, Cal, and Charlie arrived first, followed soon after by Will and Ren. Ethan, Lia, and Aeddan hit the door at the same time as Franz, James, and Krista. Al had barely closed the door when Roy and Trisha arrived with their three kids, and then the entire rest of the Mustang family descended upon the house.

By the time everyone had arrived, the house was packed, and the back yard too. Falman and Sciezka, Feury and his wife, Alex Armstrong, Tore and Charisa Breda with their younger two children, Ian and his girlfriend Bonnie, Ted, Coran and Gale and their boys, and Callie came. Even Aldon and Cassie had come up from Resembool with Ed and Winry for the occasion.

Then there were the non-family guests. They consisted of nearly a dozen members of Gracia's sewing group, another continent from the gardening club, most of the neighborhood, several friends she had stayed in contact with over the years who were other officer's wives: Al only hoped this many people wanted to come to his one-hundredth birthday, presuming they were fortunate enough to make it that long. Al was fairly certain there were at least a hundred and fifty people on his property, give or take a number of children.

Gracia was set up as the queen of it all, with a comfortable large wicker chair with soft fluffy cushions available in the garden where she could 'sit in state' or walk around at her leisure. She clearly preferred the latter, though she did often return to the chair to rest, swarms of friends in tow, like butterflies around a particularly beautiful flower.

* * *

Charlie was halfway through his second grilled sausage when Great-grandma Gracia surprised him by sitting down next to him and giving him a long hug. He swallowed. "Um, hi, Great-Grandma. Happy birthday."

"Thank you, Charlie," she beamed, giving him an extra squeeze before she let him go. "I'm glad you're here."

"Thanks." Charlie wasn't entirely sure what else to say. He was well aware he was the only great-grandchild still in town. His sister and cousins had all called in over the early part of the party, and she had spent several minutes on the phone with each of them. Maybe the extra long hug was because she couldn't hug all of them too. He supposed he didn't mind being the surrogate hugger. "This is a great party. You know, you don't look a hundred." He didn't know any woman who disliked being told they didn't look their age, especially when he was safe in that he didn't have to guess her age to begin with.

Gracia beamed with pleasure. "That's very nice of you, Charlie. You've grown up to be such a kind, intelligent young man. Your mother tells me you've been doing very well at your job and have been very responsible lately."

Responsible. Yeah. Charlie was feeling very responsible these days, but not for the reasons his family thought. He wondered if Gracia would be smiling if she knew why he was working so hard. Hopefully, when she found out, she would. "It's a good job, and my boss is great," he replied, keeping the conversation safe. "It takes up most of my free time. Well, that and homework." And boy did they have a lot of homework this year! If it hadn't been for studying with Shelby some during their little evening interludes, and even actually legitimately studying with Gill, he'd probably be failing half his classes just for the sheer workload. Still, he needed to pass and graduate, so he could hire on full-time and make a better wage, so he could support a family, and Shelby's goal. He knew she wanted to go to college, and he didn't want to keep her from continuing her education so she could have a career she loved too.

"Oh I'm sure it is!" Gracia nodded understandingly, unaware of his internal monologue. "Some things never do seem to change, and we all grow up too fast. I'm glad you're doing well and working hard, but make sure you enjoy your last years in school and remember to have fun. Before you know it, you'll have a lot more responsibility."

 _Oh don't worry Grandma… I know it._ Oh boy, did he know it.

* * *

Maybe it wasn't the most opportune moment, but it had been a while since James and Krista had seen his Uncle Ethan, mostly due to scheduling, and how long he had been gone over the summer. Somehow, James just couldn't bring himself to ask this question of anyone else. "Hey, Uncle Ethan."

Ethan turned away from the buffet, and grinned. "James! I was beginning to think you'd disappeared."

"Under the mounds of paperwork on my desk, maybe," James replied to the good-natured ribbing. Working in investigations was an ongoing and never-ending pile of bureaucratic paperwork, sprinkled with mystery.

"And here I was thinking you never left home."

Ah, of course. James shrugged. "Actually, that was something I wanted to talk to you about."

His uncle's expression became inquisitive. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I'd...we… Krista and I…." Damn this was even harder than he'd expected, and he'd been working himself up to say something for weeks. "We've been trying for almost a year to conceive but—well— nothing. We know sometimes it can take a while, but it seems like it's taking longer than it should. Certainly a lot longer than expected." And neither one of them was sure where the difficulty was. They had tried everything, and it was hardly for lack of effort or, at this point, planning.

He was grateful his uncle didn't ask for personal details. Instead, Ethan sombered. "There are some tests we can run," he replied. "Why don't you both come in next week?"  
James nodded gratefully. "Thanks. We'd appreciate it. I mean, if there's anything that can be done to help." It hadn't occurred to either of them that they would have difficulties getting pregnant.

"It depends. Sometimes it just takes time. Some issues there are alchemical treatments for."

Yet it was possible that they just wouldn't be able to. It was a thought James didn't really want to explore. He and Krista had really been looking forward to having a family. Not that they were opposed to adoption, but Krista had been looking forward to carrying a child. James didn't want to disappoint her. It didn't matter to him where the problem lay, as long as it could be overcome. "Thanks. We just… need to know what we're dealing with."

"I understand." Ethan smiled kindly. "Don't worry. We'll get it figured out."

* * *

Alyse stared at the towering beauty that was possibly the most intricate cake she had ever seen, and after years of party planning, that was a lot of cakes. Her mother and Aunt Winry had created confectionary artwork.

The cake stood in two sets of three tiers, with each tier a different flavor. Both cakes had been hand-piped all over to resemble a quilt, falling in folds down the layers, including all of the little patterns visible on most quilt fabrics. Both sides had different quilt patterns, colors, and designs. At the top, they were connected by a literal bridge made out of sugar-paste flowers, that also sat at artfully chosen points on the folds of the sugary quilts.

"I don't suppose you two do paid commissions?" Alyse asked in amazement. "Because I know a _lot_ of brides who would bankrupt their parents for a cake like that."

Elicia laughed. "I'm not sure their parents would thank us."

"You don't want to know how late we were up piping icing," Winry agreed with a nod, though she looked quite proud of their work. "But it's worth it for Gracia."

"Has Grandma seen it yet?" Alyse picked up one end of the decorative cake board that was long enough they had put both towers on it. "Cause she is going to love this."

"Not yet." Aunt Winry took the other side and nodded for her to lift at the same time she did. "We've had to keep her out of the kitchen for two days getting ready for this."

"And that was the hardest part!" Elicia grinned as she held the kitchen door open for them both to slide carefully through with the cake, and help clear the way through the crowd which was, thankfully, now mostly crowded into the back yard.

Alyse was very, very grateful that her parents had bought the house partially for the big back yard. Aside from playing in it as a child, it was now at capacity with guests.

She wasn't sure how they were going to get to the table at all.

Apparently, this had been thought of, she realized, as they reached the wide-open back doors, and she noticed that there was just enough room _behind_ the tables for them to walk down to the center, where the space was waiting for the cake. Very, very carefully she moved with Aunt Winry, as they lifted the cake up onto the table, and set it down to the sound of thundering applause. She had been so focused on not dropping it that she had forgotten that half the party was watching!

They slid out from behind the table as her father took center stage as the host of the event.

"Nice work, gorgeous," Cal stepped up behind her and kissed her cheek. "I knew you'd get involved working this somehow."

"It's a party." Alyse replied. Clearly that was all the explanation anyone should ever need.

Her father held up his glass of sparkling cider, and the massive crowd quieted. "Thank you everyone for coming!" he spoke clearly into the stillness. He didn't have to yell to be heard. The silence was almost reverent. "Today, we are celebrating one of the most amazing women I have ever known. I promised Gracia I would keep this brief, so I just want to say what really matters. She has touched so many of our lives, deeply, heartfelt, and with an inner strength that I'm sure we all envy. Gracia is a beautiful, talented, caring person, who I have been privileged to know for...a long time." There were soft chuckles, quickly hushed. "She takes care of everyone, and never asks anything in return. So, happy birthday, Gracia. We love you."

Alyse watched her grandmother's face flush with pleasure as Al saluted her with his glass, and the majority of the crowd followed suit.

Gracia stood, and joined her father. "Thank you, Alphonse. That was sweet, and speaking of sweet, I think we should enjoy this amazing cake my daughter and Winry have created."

"Of course," Al chuckled. "Let's eat!"

As they started to cut the cake, Alyse suddenly hoped her mother or Winry had remembered to take pictures.

* * *

It was late when the party ended, and while Gracia had enjoyed it immensely, she was not disappointed when the last guests had given their good wishes, and departed, leaving her house to just herself, Elicia, Alphonse, Ed, and Winry once more. It had all been amazing, and a little overwhelming. There had been no request or insistence on gifts, but that didn't mean there wasn't a large pile anyway. It was all made up of things she loved, and much of it crafting supplies: new colors of thread that had just come out on the market, favorite patterns of quilting squares, or new ones someone had thought she would love, a particularly nice new set of soft, goat-lined gardening gloves, flower bulbs to plant for next spring, recipe books from cultures she didn't have from people who knew she loved to experiment still in the kitchen.

By the time she had opened them all, carefully noting who had brought what so she could write thank you cards, her children-as she privately referred to all of them now in her own mind-had put away all outward signs of that day's party. All that remained was a bunch of beautiful pastel balloons that remained as a bouquet, tied to the large bouquets of flowers, living along the narrow table that ran behind the second couch, which meant they were up against the large picture windows that led out to the garden.  
No one was hungry for dinner, after food being out all day, and she had been quite relieved to have time to take a relaxing bath, come down, open gifts, and just sit in her favorite chair, one of the cats purring contentedly on her lap, and muse on the joy and love that had filled her day. When she sat in her chair, Maes smiled out of her favorite photo of the three of them, taking just a couple of weeks before his death.

"I'm glad you had fun, Mom," Elicia beamed as she and Al snuggled on the closer couch. Ed and Winry curled up on the other couch.

"I can't remember the last time I had so much fun," Gracia replied honestly. "Thank you all, so much."

"After everything you've done for us, I'm still sure it was enough," Ed chuckled. "But we do throw one heck of a party."

"Even the teenagers said it was cool," Al nodded. "We must have done something right."

"It was perfect," Gracia assured them. "Far more than I expected, but I enjoyed every minute. This has definitely been my biggest birthday ever."

"Daddy never threw you a big party?" Elicia asked curiously.

Gracia was sure her smile was just a little wicked. "What your father lacked in money he made up for with enthusiasm."


	14. Part 2-4 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**November 1st, 1986**

It had taken more than one visit, and tests on both of them, both alchemical and those involving the drawing of blood, before any sort of conclusion could be drawn about the reasons for the difficulty James and Krista were having in conceiving a child. There were definitely times Ethan wished that alchemy were the end-all solution so many people seemed to think it was. Still, there was nothing glamorous about collecting samples of blood, and semen, and running all of the tests they had available to see what could be discovered.

Ethan hadn't wanted to give them any hypotheses or suspicions until he had enough evidence to determine a probable, if not a definite, cause and possibly available forms of treatment; not that much existed outside of limited alchemical options, and those depended on the problem.

Finally, there wasn't anything else to be done, and he scheduled with them to come back in after work. With Krista's schedule working with children, there was no way she could get off earlier in the day.

Ethan also suspected they would be quite happy to have no one there while they discussed the matter. While he was sure Franz knew, since he lived with them, he was certain no one else did besides himself and Ren.

He had given news to many patients over the years, some good, some bad, and he had seen a lot of nervous couples, and a lot of family members.

James and Krista were both bundles of clearly conflicted emotions; nervous, hopeful, but not daring to get their hopes up in the face of possibly devastating news.

"So, you have an answer?" James asked as they all sat around in Ethan's office. He hadn't bothered with an examination room this time.

Ethan nodded.

James squeezed Krista's hand, then met Ethan's eyes. "Is it me?"

He knew how very much James wanted to be able to take the blame, to keep Krista from feeling it was her fault, and he lauded that. "It's both of you."

They clearly hadn't been expecting that answer. Krista's eyes welled with tears. James scowled.

"What do you mean?" Krista asked in a voice that remained surprisingly firm. "We're _both_ infertile?"

"Let me explain," Ethan held up one hand. "And not entirely. There are two complicating factors, but neither is insurmountable." He gave them a moment to absorb those words before continuing. Then he looked at James. "The first issue we have, is a lower sperm count than normal- not the lowest I've seen, but that's a critical factor."

James nodded, and the skin around his eyes tightened in the way that Ethan knew meant he was controlling his emotions. He was still obviously upset. "Is it treatable?"

"Presumably," Ethan nodded. "It seems to be a hormonal imbalance. There's an alchemical treatment we can try that may help put things back in balance. I can't promise how much it will improve the situation, but it's a start." Right now, he suspected James would take anything.

"When do we start?"

There was that spirit. Ethan smiled. "I can do one tonight before you leave if you like. It's just alchemy, and it only takes a few minutes." Hormones were something best adjusted slowly.

"What about me?" Krista asked. "You said that was something wrong with me too."

He winced. "I said there are issues we need to address in both of you," he corrected gently. "None of this is your fault, or anything you could have controlled. The other issue at hand, is that you're not producing eggs on the left side."

Krista blinked. "What? But I have regular cycles. I…"

Ethan spread his hands, wishing medical knowledge knew more than it did. "I can't tell you why, unfortunately, just that it's not. It's not cancerous, or visibly damaged. It's just… not. The other one is working perfectly."

"Well, can you fix it?"

"I can try." Ethan nodded. "Though if that's just how it is, it may have always been that way. In which case, you do have one. The good news is, that neither of you is completely sterile, so there is hope. It's just going to take more time."

Krista pursed her lips, then nodded. "It's something," she agreed, then managed a smile. "Thank you, Ethan. I was afraid the news would be more final."

"You know I'll do everything I can to help you." Ethan smiled back. "I expect I don't have to tell you that you'll be doing most of the work."

James laughed, and Krista blushed. For the first time in months, they looked truly hopeful.

 **November 2nd, 1986**

Gill had a weird look on his face as he and Charlie sat outside on the schoolyard to eat lunch. The day was unseasonably warm, so they were hardly the only ones. Charlie didn't like it when people gave him funny looks.

"You look like you ate something weird. What's up?" Charlie asked.

"Is it true?"

Charlie paused… unsure if Gill was talking about what he thought he was, and how he could possibly know. "Is what true?" he asked cautiously, eating his sandwich as if he had nothing to hide. He couldn't panic now, especially if there wasn't a reason.

"That Shelby's pregnant with your kid."

Charlie almost choked on his pastrami. "Where did you hear that?" he hissed. Crap! He hoped no one else had heard!

"Marlie told me." Gill replied just as quietly. "She asked Shelby about it the other night when Shelby was sleeping over at her place… cause, you know, she's put on some weight lately… and Shelby told her."

Well there was no denying that. Charlie nodded subtly. "Yeah… so what?"

"So what… what are you _doing,_ Man? I mean… we both know you've been sneaking around, but this is more than fooling around!"

In for a sen… Charlie sighed. Marlie knew, Gill knew. He might as well fill his best friend in on the plan. "Yeah, well, as soon as a judge will approve it, we're getting married." He very quietly and quickly outlined the briefest portion of the plan. When he was done, he looked hopefully at his best friend. "So, you in?"

Gill's eyes had only gotten wider as he explained, but when Charlie asked him directly, Gill nodded. "What else can I do? You're my best friend. This is… insane, but I'm kind of impressed you came up with a plan this gutsy."

"What, you didn't think I had guts?"

"No, but I kind of thought you didn't have a death wish." At that he actually smiled a little. "But given what's going to happen, it seems like the best plan at this point. Though are you sure you shouldn't tell your folks?"

"We're going to," Charlie reminded him. "Just… only when they can't do anything about it."

Gill nodded, and while he didn't say it was smart, he also didn't counsel him to tell his parents. They both knew what Shelby's parents would do. His parents…. As cool about many things as his father was, Charlie could not imagine him being happy, and his mother was probably going to lose it, at least at first. "Well, Marlie's all over this. Don't worry, we won't say a word."

"I know you won't." That was the best thing about best friends, especially Gill. It didn't matter what crazy stuff they had pulled over the years, Gill was one of the most loyal people Charlie had ever known. "I appreciate it. Cause things are going to get pretty crazy for a while."

Gill finished his lunch. "Charlie, with you, everything's crazy."

 **Nov 5th, 1986**

""I brought the soundtrack, just like I promised!" Julia announced as she danced into the room. "You wouldn't believe how long it took me to find it! Everyone said they didn't know where it was and finally Amelia said she might have listened to it in her room and that's where I had to look to find it! I think I found more of Amelia's toys that she said she lost before I finally got to this! I swear, there's more stuff stuffed under Amelia's bed than the rest of us have clothes in our closets! And that's saying a lot, because Lillian has a LOT of clothes."

Brandon, who was in the middle of grabbing snacks out of the kitchen for their study session, laughed. "I don't know how you keep whose stuff is what straight in your house sometimes," he admitted. Three sisters; he had quite enough with one!

"We all know whose stuff is whose," Julia assured Brandon. "Anything pink and cutesy is Amelia's. Anything having to do with animals is Lillian's. Anything sporty or scientific is Jay's. And everyone knows not to touch my prop collection, costumes, or fabric."

"Well, I'm glad you found the soundtrack," Brandon replied, grinning. It was new, and he'd been looking forward to hearing it. That, and he hoped it would put Julia in an amenable mood for turning the conversation a particular direction while they were studying. "I've almost got snacks ready." He set a plate down stacked high with slices of cheese, meat, vegetables, and creamy dip. There was also a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses.

"What else do you need to get out?" laughed Julia. "You've got enough to feed an army! Do you need a hand?"

"No, I've got it," he assured her, grinning as he turned back to the counter, and returned with another plate, this one containing very different snacks. One, a bowl of cinnamon almonds, and the other was one he knew was her favorite snack, because it had been her favorite snack for years. They consisted of frozen yogurt stuck between graham crackers, rolled in chocolate chips, and frozen. They were a little time consuming, but delicious.

"Oh my gosh, you did not!" Julia squealed when she saw the treats. "I love these! I haven't had them in so long! How did you know I've been wanting these?"

Brandon grinned. "When have you ever _not_ loved these?" he replied rhetorically. He knew the answer was _never._ "I figured if we're going to study this hard, we deserve treats. They're easier to make than I thought they'd be," he admitted.

Julia grabbed the closest sandwich and took a bite. "I don't know," she spoke in a teasing tone. "These aren't as good as they could be. You should probably try again. Preferably the next time we study."

For a moment, Brandon was disappointed, until he realized she was teasing him. "Or maybe I'll just eat them all so you don't suffer," he suggested, picking one up and popping it in his mouth."

"Oh no, you shouldn't have to suffer alone," Julia snatched another two off the plate. She grinned as she munched, "These are so good!"

Which was exactly what he was hoping she'd say. "Glad you like them," he said after he had swallowed the on in his mouth. "Here, I'll put the music on," he reached out for the album. The record player was in the corner. The food had been spread out on the living room table, since there was more room to work there than in the kitchen.

"Start it on track seven!" Julie called. "That's my favorite! Oh wait, track six and fourteen is good too. Argh! I can't decide, I love the whole thing! Have you ever listened to an album and skipped around to your favorite parts? I did that last night while I was doing homework until Dad said I had to go to bed. Since I can't decide, pick a place to start, will you?"

"How about we just start at the beginning and let it play?" Brandon suggested, snickering as he set the record on the player and set the needle in place. "It was written to be listened to in order, so why not listen to it the way it was intended?"

"Aww, you don't like to listen to your favorite song over and over?" Julia giggled. "Jay gets really annoyed when we do that."

"It also wears down the record really fast there and unevenly." Brandon waited until the music started, then turned and joined her at the couch, grabbing a bite of meat and cheese as he did so.

"You're no fun," Julia poked Brandon on the arm before dramatically plopping on the couch. "Ugh, I do not want to do homework tonight! I could think of a thousand other projects I'd rather be doing!"

"Name twenty," Brandon quipped, grinning as he dropped down on the couch next to her. He reached for their Amestrian Literature book first. The fact that they were currently reading the old play _West City Story_ was roughly based on made it a favorite subject at the moment. It also fit his plans for the evening perfectly.

"I could be reading the novel I had to put down to come study. Or sewing sequins on the skirt I'm making for the winter holidays. Or writing about the new script idea I had during history class," Julia was counting on her fingers. She grinned, "I could keep going if you want. Sitting here and eating more of those frozen yogurt sandwiches is also on that list."

"My list wasn't nearly that long." Brandon grinned and he nudged the plate closer to her so she could reach without stretching. "Though studying with you is pretty much always at the top of the list," he added, hoping he wasn't pushing it too far.

"Awww, you're so sweet," Julia smiled. She pulled her own copy of Amestrian Literature out of her bag and blew her bangs off her forehead. "Well, the homework's not going to get done by itself."

"I thought we could read tonight's section out loud," Brandon suggested, trying to keep it casual. "It's more fun that way, and it's just the two leads so…" romantic balcony scenes were definitely best out loud.

"Really?" Julia asked excitedly. "I'd love that! I've read it by myself of course, but I don't have a good low tone for a guy, so it just sounds weird."

"It's also weird to confess your undying love to yourself," Brandon chuckled. "I mean, then you just sound narcissistic."

Julia giggled, "You mean you don't give yourself that type of pep talk in the morning after you wake up?" She posed dramatically. "Good morning beautiful! You are awesome and today is going to fabulous!" She could barely get the final words out before dissolving into laughter.

"No, normally I'm frantically trying not to cross my stage directions with my soccer plays," Brandon countered, grinning. "I don't know a lot of guys who talk to themselves like that. They save the compliments for the pretty people."

"You're pretty enough," Julia shot back before crinkling her nose. "Oh wait, boys are supposed to be handsome, not pretty. You're handsome enough, especially with that haircut."

Brandon hadn't even thought about his hair. He'd spent so much time wearing it in the style for his character lately, that he'd gotten used to it. "Thanks. I might keep it after the show, I mean, if it's really that much better than the old style." His stomach flipped. She thought he was handsome?

"It looks really good on you," Julia nodded, then seemed to realize that she was admiring a bit too long. A blush touched her cheeks as she looked away and stammered,

"Um, literature! Amestrian literature. Where should we start?"

His mouth was halfway open when she jumped to literature, and he shifted what he had been planning to say mid-thought. "The beginning of the scene," he suggested. That was where the assignment started anyway. It also meant he started. He faced her, and looked into her eyes, trying to capture the look of a captivated young man. It wasn't hard. "Oh fairest maiden, out of reach, how far above my heart and station. How shall I call thee?"

"Oh what ado," Julia read with a sigh.

"I make only such words as speak to my purpose," Brandon continued fervently. "And for that, I have but one goal, to pursue thee. But I beg thee...thy name?"

"What name shalt I give thee?" Julia leaned closer to Brandon. "For I dare not give the name of mine own father, as that name is a poison upon thy lips. Shalt thee deny thy own name to save thyself? Because if you be true, I shall also deny mine own name."

"My heart is thine, so true it be…. Will you go to the winter dance with me?"

"Wait, that's not…" Julia's eyes grew wide as she realized what Brandon had just said. "Oh! You just… Oh my gosh, the dance? You're asking me to the dance?"

Brandon really hoped he hadn't just screwed everything up, but shocked was better than angry, right? He smiled, feeling a little foolish and sure his face was turning red.

"Yeah...I mean yes. Will you?"

"Yes!" Julia nearly yelled. "Of course I will! Oh my gosh, you actually did it!"

Actually…. Wait. "You were expecting me to?" Brandon was slightly floored. Okay, so she had pretty much turned him down for as long as he'd known her, but this time he'd actually been formal about it. He was thrilled and confused, all at once.

"More like really, really hoping?" Julia was trying not to blush, but she was sure her entire face was red. She started speaking in a rush, "When Iris said that she wanted to ask you out all I could think was that I wanted to claw her eyes out. I mean, you two are my best friends but I couldn't believe how jealous I was at the thought of you giving all that attention to someone else! And then, the girls were all talking about who was going to the dance and I started thinking of how I really wanted to go with you, but I didn't know if you would be interested, so then I thought I would ask you to the dance myself but I couldn't find the right timing, or we were too busy. So I told myself that if you hadn't asked by the middle of the month, I would do it myself, because I really, really want to go to the dance with you."

She… Brandon tried to shake off the feeling of shock that had hit him. Years of crushing on her, of watching her drool uselessly over his older brother because _she_ had a hopeless crush on Dare. It was… funny. He grinned, then he chuckled, then he laughed, and before he could convince himself to stop, he reached out and grabbed her in a hug.

Julia was laughing as she returned the hug. She gave Brandon an extra squeeze before pulling back with a knowing grin, "How much did you plan to ask me to the dance using the script?"

"Enough that I refuse to admit how long it took," Brandon replied vaguely, bringing his chuckles back under control. "I was expecting you to say no."

"If Iris hadn't said anything, I probably would have," Julia admitted. She gave an apologetic smile, "Sorry it took me this long to notice that you're pretty cool."

"Pretty cool?" Brandon eyed her as they separated. "I've been trying to get you to go out with me for years, and all I had to be was _pretty cool?"_

"No, I just had to get my head pointed in the right direction," Julia shrugged, but she was still smiling. "You can thank Iris for that."

"Why?" Brandon replied. "I've been actively pursuing you, and the only reason you changed your mind is because your friend wanted to date me?" The smile slipped from his face.

"Why is that so bad if it means that I finally realized that I care about you?" Julia asked, her face heating. "You've always told me before if I said something stupid, so what did I blurt out that made this bad?"

It was a fair question, though one that didn't make him feel any less disappointed. "I just… I thought maybe I'd actually done something right, finally. I had to watch you drool over my brother for years, and he never did _anything._ I mean, yeah, I am grateful but…. Think about how it feels when you like someone, really like them, and they don't even notice. I know you know what I'm talking about." Because Dare had never noticed her, at all, beyond being one of his kid brother's friends, and one of his friend Jay's little sisters.

"Oh," Julia said in a small voice. Then, suddenly, she grabbed Brandon's hand and looked him in the eye, "Brandon, I am so, so sorry! I never meant to make you feel like that! I like you! I really do! And not just because of something Iris said, I just… Argh, now I'm afraid that if I say anything else I'll just make it worse!"

That was just like her. He gave her a small, lopsided smile, and most of his disappointment leaked away. "Julia, it's okay. It's not like I'm going to stop liking you now just because of a few blunt words. If that was all it took, do you think we'd still be friends?"

"There are days I sometimes wonder," Julia tried to smile as she quickly blinked back tears. "Are you really ok? I feel awful."

"You think I'm hot and still want to go to the dance with me?"

"Yes!" Julia immediately answered.

"Then I've never been better."

 **November 7th, 1986**

Cal had gotten used to his son working in the evenings. It made a nice change to know where his son was, and that he wasn't getting into trouble because he was working hard, and his boss had said repeatedly how meticulously responsible Charlie was. It made Cal feel better. After the challenges they had all faced at the beginning of the year, with Alyse's illness, and Charlie's traumatic breakup with his girlfriend, Cal had been worried that Charlie might exhibit some more _typically Fischer_ behaviors, but if anything, Charlie had been in trouble less since he started this job than ever before. He had miraculously not had a detention or last-minute parent-teacher meeting, or note home, all semester. It was a record, and one Cal hoped would continue.

So he wasn't particularly surprised, or upset, when Charlie arrived home after nine, looking tired. He worked the full day most days on weekends, so tired was not a particularly unusual expression at this hour. He was just grateful Charlie had found something he loved that he could turn into regular work, and possibly a career.

"How's the hard working mechanic's life this evening?" he asked as Charlie dropped his book bag next to Cal's work case near the door and came straight into the kitchen where Cal was, looking for the coffee pot.

"Hard working," Charlie quipped as he poured himself a cup of thick, dark sludge. "Changed out an entire transmission on my own today. Took seven hours to take the car apart and put it back together again, but she purrs like a tiger."

"That loud huh?"

"It's supposed to," Charlie assured him with a grin. "It was sweet little honey of a sports car."

Cal snickered. "When I was your age, we only talked about girls like that."

Charlie's grin slipped for a moment, and Cal felt guilty. It had been months since Charlie had mentioned any girl, let alone his former girlfriend. Perhaps that sore spot hadn't healed as much as he thought. Charlie mustered a smile again in another moment and shrugged. "Times change, old man."

"Watch it, squirt," Cal teased in return. "I'm not that old."

"I'm almost through high school. Gloria's in college. If it's not old what does that make you?" Charlie asked.

"A successful parent." There had been days Cal wondered if they-him or the kids, though particularly Charlie- would live to see this day. "A man can't be counted old until he's got grandkids, and thankfully you're sister's nowhere close to that yet."

Charlie took a long drink of his coffee, nodding. "Yeah," he replied after a moment. "Though she's still seeing that Drachman guy, right?"

"Half Drachman." Cal ignored the mild shudder in his back. He had reminded himself repeatedly, several times, that Alexei, despite his name, had been born and raised an Amestrian citizen, had a good job, treated Gloria well, and lived half a country away from her. He kept telling himself that his reaction to the name was entirely psychological because of his war experiences. Alexei had nothing to do with the war. He wasn't a Drachman. But that didn't make Cal's stomach settle or make him entirely pleased by the relationship. He figured, if it lasted, he'd get used to it. "Last your mother told me they're still writing each other."

Charlie nodded. "I met him when he came to pick her up last summer. He seemed pretty okay."

The room grew quiet. Upstairs, Cal could hear the subtle splashing of bath water, where he knew Alyse was soaking. Charlie sat, apparently content to just drink his coffee and relax. He'd kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the foot stool.

Cal wondered at the shift in conversation. "So," he asked, trying to keep it casual. "Any interesting new girls in your life?"

Charlie twitched, then swallowed and shook his head. "Nah. I haven't seen anyone new… or particularly interesting."

"I figured in a school as big as yours, there'd be a few that might be interested," Cal admitted. He was actually relieved Charlie wasn't out looking for a new romance, but it might have been nice to have the assurance his son was moving on. Well, he couldn't expect a few months to entirely do away with feelings. Even when he'd fled home at seventeen, Cal hadn't truly gotten over Valeria for years. "Well, I suppose it's not my business." Cal shrugged, stood, and stretched. "I'm heading on up. You have any homework left you need to do?"

Charlie shook his head. "No. I finished it on break this afternoon."

"Good for you." That was what he liked to hear. Certainly his son's grades were a vast improvement over the end of the previous school year. They weren't all As by any stretch, but they were all decent passing grades. "Well, I'll leave you to your well-earned relaxation then. G'night."

"Night, Dad," Charlie replied.

With that, Cal headed up the stairs, pondering if Alyse wanted to do anything before bed.

* * *

Charlie let out a huge breath as soon as his father vanished upstairs. _Well, that was a close one._ When his father had started talking about grandkids, Charlie had been half-sure his father had learned something. Then he'd asked about girlfriends. At least Charlie hadn't had to lie. He _hadn't_ been seeing anyone new.

 _He might just kill me after all._ The closer it got to December, the more nervous Charlie got. Not just because of the secret they were keeping, but because the closer things came, the more real it got. Not that it could really be _less_ real. Carrying deep or not, Shelby was definitely starting to show, and while she wore clothes that hid it well, weight gain starting to be noticeable. If Gill and Marlie knew, eventually the rest of the school, or her parents, were going to figure things out.

They just had to make it one more month. Charlie desperately hoped they could get there.


	15. Part 2-5 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**December 6th, 1986**

Cal wasn't sure what to expect when he and Alyse walked into the small conference room on the bottom floor of the Central Public Library. All he knew was that Charlie was expecting them, and had asked them to come over after work because there was something he wanted to show them. Cal had been trying to figure out all day what that might be. Perhaps Charlie had entered one of the library's writing contests without telling them, and had won something? It was possible. He wouldn't have wanted them to know if he failed, probably. If not that, Cal was puzzled, and he knew Alyse was too.

What he really hadn't expected, was to see Shelby Cruse's parents already standing in the room, waiting.

Tim Cruse frowned deeply when they walked in. "What are you doing here?"

Cal stopped abruptly. "I was about to ask you the same thing," he admitted, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach. "Charlie told us to meet him here. He said it was important."

Pauline Cruse nodded, though she did not look happy. "Shelby said the same thing."

Cal knew when he was being set up, and this felt very much like one. Clearly, the two teenagers had _not_ complied with the indictment against continuing to talk to each other. If they were calling both sets of parents here, maybe they had simply decided to tell them that they were still dating; that they were not going to let the past get in the way of how they felt.

Cal….could handle that. It was what he had hoped Val would do when he had offered to marry her in high school. It might be something like that. He could deal with that. "I guess we find out."

"So you really have no idea?" Tim asked suspiciously.

"None," Alyse replied, meeting his gaze evenly. "Charlie hasn't said a word about your daughter in months."

"Shelby hasn't said anything about him either," Cruse acknowledged, looking more and more displeased.

"Then I suggest we sit, and wait and see what it is they want to say," Alyse replied calmly.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," Pauline agreed reasonably.

Cal nodded, and they all sat down. He was glad that Shelby's mother, at least, seemed to be reasonable. He had not met the woman before this moment, and only knew her name from the school directory, and when Shelby's father had called to shout at him once.

They did not have long to wait. The two teens walked together, hand-in-hand, and Cal's hope that this was simply a declaration of their refusal to be separated plummeted. They both looked nervous, which he had expected, but he couldn't help staring at Shelby who, even dressed in loose, flowy clothing, was distinctly heavier than he recalled. Not that he had ever spent much time staring at his son's girlfriend, but he had a sinking suspicion that this scenario was worse than he had been dreading. _Please, please let her just have gotten fat._

No one spoke until the two of them stood in front of their parents.

"What's this about?" Tim Cruse finally asked, staring hard at his daughter.

Shelby met his gaze. "Did you know it's legal in Amestris for couples to get married at seventeen without parental consent?"

Cruse's face went ashen white.

 _Shit._ Cal stared at his son, but Charlie wasn't looking at him. At least, not until he held up the piece of paper in his other hand. He looked between them all, his eyes never directly meeting his father's. "We got married this afternoon."

"Why?" Alyse and Pauline gasped in the same moment.

Shelby was still looking at her father with the most defiant expression Cal had ever seen on the girl's face. "I love him. He loves me. Yet you told us we couldn't even talk to each other."

"But that's no reason to—"

"Do you remember," Shelby cut off her father sharply, "When you told me that you were glad I wasn't pregnant, because then you'd have to make Charlie marry me instead of chasing him off?"

Cal hated being right. Apparently Alyse and the others hadn't realized what was going on, because that started more shocked gasps and Cruse let out an intelligible yelp of outrage. Cal stared hard at his son, as anger and betrayal begin to boil. "You mean you did this on _purpose?_ " It was one thing for accidents to happen. Carelessness in a moment of passion… but this smelled like a deliberate plot. "You've been sneaking around behind our backs for months, lying, planning, all this, without a word." His hands were beginning to shake. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?"

Charlie met his eyes with an expression that stung of hurt and betrayal. _What did you expect me to do kid, approve?_ "Wrong with me? We did what we had to! _None of you_ wanted us to be together. You, of all people, should understand what it feels like to be forced to give up someone you would die for! Well, we weren't willing to just chicken out. So yes, we're married, and I'll take care of Shelby, and we can spend the rest of our lives together. We're almost eighteen. A year isn't that much of a difference."

Cal wanted to hit him. His fists curled. "It's a lifetime of difference." Charlie couldn't know… he just couldn't have any idea what they had thrown away by choosing this path instead of waiting. Yes, a year, and then they could have been together, and Shelby's parents wouldn't have been able to do anything. Cal had told his son to wait, to be patient… and in true Fischer fashion, Charlie had failed miserably. " _I_ made a huge, stupid mistake once. Yes, but why the hell did you have to get her pregnant? Wasn't being seventeen enough?"

Charlie shrugged. "It was very convincing to the judge."

 _CRACK._

Cal froze. Charlie staggered, then looked up at him, staring in shock.

The room had gone deathly quiet, and Cal realized that everyone else had been watching him and Charlie. The hand mark on his son's face was the only clue that Cal had punched him. He hadn't even felt his hand moving. He was just so _angry_ ….

Even Alyse was too amazed to speak, eyes wide. Shelby, and her parents, who had still been shouting when he turned to Charlie, were silent. It looked like Pauline had been physically holding Tim back, because her hands were still on his arms.

Charlie stared at him as if he had become a total stranger.

Cal resisted the urge to hit him again, to remove that expression. His son, who should have known better, who should have _listened,_ who knew Cal had only wanted to save him from suffering and heartache… "I've never been so disappointed in my life. I really thought you had more sense, Charles." He'd never felt more ashamed either, and not just of his son, but of himself for failing to foresee the spectacular mess that Charlie had made. "I hope you can live with what you've done." With that, he spun on his heels and walked out of the room before he could do anything even more unforgiveable.

He got a drink from the library water fountain before he went out into the garden where he proceeded to stalk back and forth like an angry cat. He tried to soothe his temper, calm his nerves, but he just couldn't shake the betrayal in Charlie's eyes, or the image of that signed marriage license, or his son's pregnant girl—wife. He made himself think it. It almost killed him. Where were they going to live? How were they going to afford a baby? He hadn't asked. They might have a plan, but he wasn't going to hear it now. Had they even thought that far ahead? How far did this plot extend?

It was several minutes before Alyse found him. Cal was more surprised to see Tim and Pauline right behind her. They were all very quiet. When Cal stopped pacing, the two women moved off on their own, leaving Cal standing next to Tim Cruse; his son's new father-in-law. He shuddered. "So, I'd like to think we can both agree we're not happy with this situation."

Tim nodded warily, still scowling. "Fischer I'd—like to apologize to you. I've spent months trying to tell myself all that mess was your boy. Shelby's always been such a good, responsible girl, but… she's been lying to us, planned this… she said, she told us the baby was her idea. Then she hid this for so long…"

"It's the lies that hurt most," Cal nodded soberly. "You have a nice girl, Cruse. Up until now I'd have said she was a good influence on my son." The first couple of years of their relationship had been so good for Charlie. "Now I'm not sure what to think. I'd never have expected either of them to lie about something like this." Or take so much time to set up an elaborate plan. "And they're right; it's completely legal. So what do we do?"

"It's on their heads," Tim grunted. "I won't have them living in my house. Not after this shameful deceit. I won't have anyone thinking I approve."

"Timothy!" Pauline sounded shocked. She and Alyse had rejoined them.

"That's my final word on it," he replied shortly. "She's not sleeping under my roof again. If she wants this, then she can live with it." He turned and walked off.

"I'm sorry," Pauline said apologetically, wringing her hands in agitation. "We're both stunned. I never thought…. Shelby said they had both moved on. Of course, we believed her. We've never had any reason not to trust her."

On another day, Cal might have felt more sympathetic. They had both been fooled, but at the moment, he had just one question. "Forgive me for asking this, but since I haven't seen your daughter since last winter I have to know. How the _hell_ did you not notice she was pregnant?"

"Calvin!" Alyse glared at him with that _you're being insensitive_ look. Cal didn't care.

Pauline almost burst into tears. "She was so upset about the breakup! I thought… well you know girls and stress. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, so I didn't ask."

Cal had to admit, it wasn't the most unreasonable assumption, and if he'd seen her every day, maybe he wouldn't have seen it so starkly either, but the girl had to be at least four or five months pregnant. "Did you learn anything else after I left?" he finally asked the two women.

Alyse sighed. "They're due in February."

"Shit."

She glared again. "Apparently they'd given this far more thought than I realized. They've been saving all of their work money, and had planned to rent a small apartment. They've started collecting baby things already, and were going to try and get their class schedules changed to accommodate working and taking care of the baby."

"Would their plan have worked?" He couldn't help asking.

Pauline shook her head. "Maybe, but only if they were very lucky. Neither of them makes much. If Tim wasn't so stubborn…. I don't know what Shelby will do if she can't come home!"

"If they've gone this far, she wasn't going home with you anyway," Cal pointed out. "We'd have to forcibly separate them, and now that might qualify as criminal."

"Well they have to live somewhere!" Pauline insisted. "They can't live alone in some tiny apartment. No one will rent to seventeen year olds."

Not today they wouldn't. Cal remembered his first place in Central. Of course, he'd lied about his age on the rental application… _Not helping._ He sighed and looked at Alyse. He knew that look. "You want them to move in with us, don't you?"

"We can't let them spend what little they have on scraping by," Alyse nodded. "They'll be ruining their chances before they start. You know that as well as I do. They'll never be able to handle working those jobs, and child care, and graduating, and they've got to graduate high school."

"We will," Charlie's voice came to them and Cal turned to see Charlie and Shelby standing together, still holding hands, still looking very determined, but much more contrite, and a little scared. "That was always the plan. Shelby can't go to college if she doesn't graduate. So we've got to."

That seemed to be the best thing he could have said, because Pauline started to cry, then hugged her daughter and then—to everyone's surprise—briefly hugged Charlie. "I'll hold you to that, young man," she said with a little more firmness when she straightened up.

Cal sighed. "You move in with us," he said, not offering it as an option. He was tired of being circumvented. "Married or not, you're still only seventeen, and you don't have our consent to live outside the house. You'll need child care, and you have to finish high school."

The worst of the fear seemed to melt off the young couple. Charlie's expression lit up with a hint of hope. "You mean it?" There was almost a note of victory there.

Cal frowned as he walked right up to his son. "You don't get to be a boy anymore. From now on, you're an adult. You've got a family relying on you, and you have to put them ahead of everything. It's not about you anymore, and if you screw this up, I will shoot you myself."

"Calvin!"

Charlie and Cal both ignored Alyse's horrified gasp. Charlie nodded. "I understand. I knew that when I made this choice. It was ours to make. I still think it was the right one."

Cal nodded once. "Fine. Let's get any things you two need, and go home." _I really hope you're right boy, because you're in for a long, hard road._

* * *

Charlie could hardly believe they had succeeded. He had been certain for a few minutes that both fathers were going to beat them within an inch of their lives, or haul them apart and try to make them end the marriage. Apparently they had realized that plan of action was futile. He had never been so grateful for his mother's kind heart… or Shelby's mother's. He had not realized that her mother did not hate him, though he was not entirely certain she liked him anymore. At least not at the moment. He also had not expected the move in offer...well mandate. Still, he had quickly realized that living with his parents until they graduated and got full-time work was a far more agreeable and reasonable plan of action. His mother didn't work as much anymore, and since so much of that was from her home office, there was no reason she couldn't help take care of the baby.

Still, it felt strange, a whirlwind hour later, to be standing in his own room at home, with the few baby things they had collected gathered up from their hiding place, and Shelby with her two suitcases. "So, this is it," he said finally, feeling a bit awkward about exactly what else to say. "We'll need to rearrange it, I know, but…" He'd have to put away a lot of his old things. There were still toys on shelves from when he was ten, and his pile of comic books in one corner. They would need to make room to set up the crib, but for now, it was something.

"It's all right." Shelby placed her hand on his arm, then turned around so they were facing each other. Then she smiled slowly. "We did it, Charlie! You, and me, and we'll be able to do everything we wanted to. And your parents don't hate us…" her voice dropped off and her smile slipped.

"Yours don't hate us either," he assured her immediately. He took her in his arms, and kissed her. "They're just shocked. But they love you, and they'll come around. Besides, you've got me, and I've got you, and we've got our little caterpillar." It was what he had taken to calling the little wiggler in her belly. "We can do anything… my lovely wife." Tonight, they would sleep in the same bed. They shared a life. They would never be apart again. This was it. This was real.

Shelby smiled softly. "You're right… my husband." The word sounded strange, and wonderful, all at once. "We can stop hiding now. I can stop pretending I'm not _starving_ at school now!"

It was true. They could stop pretending they weren't together. The whole school would know inside a day, if not sooner. How would their teachers react? Their classmates? Not that it worried him, not now. Their parents had been Charlie's biggest concern. Marlie and Gill had come with them to the courthouse that morning, and served their willing part as witnesses. So no matter what scandal people made of it, they had friends, and they had each other.

He hugged her again, and she hugged him back, and then yawned. "I know it's early," she said as she looked up at him. "But I think a nap sounds good. What about you?"  
Charlie smiled. "That sounds like a great idea."

* * *

"I have no idea how you aren't going crazy," Cal commented to Alyse as they sat alone at the dinner table, after Charlie and Shelby had gone upstairs. He didn't want to follow. Hell, he didn't want to know. For all he knew, they were going to play around before bed. They were married, so they could do whatever they wanted in that bed… he just didn't want to think about it.

"What else can I do?" Alyse asked him. "I'm stunned. If you hadn't started shouting, I probably would have, but it wouldn't have done any good. It's too late. It's done, and we'll never talk them out of it, but I couldn't let them live in that tiny, dingy apartment, throwing away any hope they have of succeeding. The least we can do is make sure they don't sabotage their lives before they really get started."

It was true, every word, and yet it didn't sit well with Cal. "I thought telling Charlie about my past would warn him off this kind of stupidity," he admitted. "I never thought he'd take it as a guide book!"

"This isn't your fault, Cal." Alyse fidgeted with her spoon in one hand, something she almost never did. "Teenagers break up, sometimes even if they don't want to, all the time. If parents don't approve, it usually doesn't last. Most of them don't do anything this dramatic. We tried to do what we thought was right. You told him to be patient, to wait. They didn't. Charlie has never been patient, or good at waiting, or good at following directions. There was no way for you to know this was going on. He hid it so well none of us had any idea. You didn't know. I didn't know. I have no idea how, but even thinking back I can't think of any clues that anything was wrong."

"It was pretty air tight," Cal conceded. "I'm just… I still don't know if there's anything I could have done differently last winter that would have kept this from happening."

"Maybe, but we'll only drive ourselves crazy if we try to figure it out." Alyse leaned across the table and squeezed his hand. "So we move forward. They're going to have difficult days ahead, and I do think they know that. But if this is what they've chosen, I won't stand by and watch them fail."

"Me neither." Cal sat, amazed at his wife's ability to handle anything. Especially something where he would have expected her, with her sensibilities, to fly completely off the deep end. "I just… I need time to take it all in."

Alyse nodded, and surprised him again. "Why don't you call Tore and see if he's busy this evening? You two haven't hung out in a while."

She knew him too, too well. Cal leaned in and kissed her. "I love you."

* * *

Your best friend was the one who would drop anything to go with you to the bar, even when he had no idea why you really needed to be in a bar.

Of course, it helped that Tore had a very understanding wife too, and Alyse and Charisa had long ago learned that the easiest way to make sure either one of them didn't fall apart—and made it home in one piece—was to just let them go talk things out.

Still, Cal was not at all surprised by the look of utter shock on his friend's face when the words "Charlie and Shelby got married this morning...and she's pregnant," came out of his mouth.

In fact, Tore blinked several times, and took a drink of his beer, before he seemed to formulate a response. "And her father hasn't killed him?"

"Amazingly, no." Cal sipped his whiskey. "Though he did kick his own daughter out of the house, so we'll see how long that lasts."

"So they're living with you."

"How'd you know?"

"I know you and Alyse," Tore pointed out. "You wouldn't kick family to the curb no matter how badly they screwed up. At least it's not worse."

"Do I want to know what you envision when you say worse?" Cal asked.

"Drugs," Tore replied in a word. "They could have just eloped and run off, quit school, and never come to you. But they came to you and her parents the moment they knew you wouldn't try to tear them apart."

Cal nodded. It was true. There were far worse situations this could be, though at the moment that didn't make him feel much better. "I'm worried about them."

"They're in love. Man that's a crazy age." Tore sighed and shook his head. "When I think of the crazy shit we did at that age. I'd dropped out of school and was studying to take the State Alchemy exam."

"I… did the same thing." Cal shook his head. "Only I was running from everything I ever knew. Maybe I just should have seen this coming."

"No reason you should have." Tore shook his head. "Gloria's turned out spectacularly, hasn't she? Just having your genes, and being raised by you, doesn't automatically mean you do crazy things."

"That would be Alyse's influence." He finished his glass, and contemplated another as his finger ran thoughtfully around the rim. "He's _my_ son, Tore. I can see too much of it in him. What's going to happen when he's eighteen, twenty? Yes, he's madly in love with Shelby, but what happens when other women start showing interest? They will. Their friends will still be going and hanging out, carefree, throwing parties, enjoying the freedom of being adults without the responsibilities. Eventually, he'll figure out exactly what he's thrown away, and he'll resent it." He shook his head, and nodded for the bartender to refill his glass. "I never told him what I know now… that Valeria and I would never have made it. Even if I had married her, it would have been a disaster. We were both too selfish to last and it would have been just as crappy a marriage as the one she ended up in anyway. I'd have cheated on her eventually, or we'd have split up." It had taken him a long time to figure that out. A very long time. It hadn't been until he had gotten fully involved with Alyse that he really understood what made for a good, long-term relationship, and he'd almost screwed that one up more than once too.

"Was there any reason to tell him?" Tore asked.

Cal shrugged. "I didn't think so. I had no idea he was planning something this insane."

"Then it's not your fault, Cal."

"Thanks." He picked up his refilled glass, and drank. "How's Dare doing?"

Tore smiled and let him change the subject. "Nervous about the wedding, but happy. He's just been promoted too."

"I think that makes my point." Cal didn't at all resent Tore for his well-behaved, successful children. Sure the younger two were just hitting their teen years, but after everything Tore had been through, and Dare as a little boy, he was impressed with the way Tore's oldest son had turned out.

"I remind you, again, of your amazing daughter, who has never done anything wrong in her life."

Cal snorted. "She's dating that Drachman."

That got him a funny look. "From what Alyse has told Charisa, he's Amestrian. His father bailed on the Drachman Army to stay here."

"As if being the son of a Drachman deserter is any more reassuring." It was the whiskey talking at this point, at least that was what Cal wished he could tell himself. Alexei seemed to be a perfectly courteous fellow when he had met him, however briefly. But Cal couldn't take the look of him, or the subtle hint of an accent he had clearly picked up from his father. "It bothers me."

"You know, I never pictured you for a racist."

Cal looked down at the reflection of his own face, distorted in the glass, looking old and bitter. He looked too much like his father. "Yeah, me neither."


	16. Part 2-6 - Fall-Winter'86-'87

**December 8th, 1986**

It didn't matter that the only people they told at school that morning outright about the change in marital status and Shelby's home address was the school's main office. It didn't matter that Marlie and Gill had kept their mouths careful shut as promised, or that it had only been a weekend since they had last been in the building. By the end of the day everyone knew that something was up, and the rumors were flying.

Of course, the fact that Charlie and Shelby rode the same bus to school, got off it together, ate lunch together, and left together, publically, would have been enough. It didn't take much more for the gossip chain to start putting things together; though even Charlie had to admit the rumors got a little wild. It was better to answer the few questions he got asked straight up than to let the rumors mills run with it. They'd have them running a drug ring or something by tomorrow if he didn't nip it. Apparently Shelby did the same thing, though they both had agreed to say only the minimum necessary. Yes, they had gotten married. Yes, Shelby was pregnant. They still had their jobs. They still planned to finish school.

He could handle being something of a sudden sensation. It wasn't worse than when he'd been in trouble in the past, or gotten in a fight, or detention. What he hadn't been prepared for was the hostility. He didn't know why some of the other students glared at them. Maybe some of them were jealous. Maybe others just honestly disapproved. Charlie couldn't do anything about that. They _had_ gotten married. It wasn't like he'd knocked her up and _then_ dumped her. This had been a mutual decision.

But the teachers were clearly not pleased. None of them were outright hostile, but most were quietly disapproving. Charlie wondered if Shelby was putting up with the same looks, though whenever he saw her, she walked with her head high, no look of shame, and continued to act as if it were just a normal day at school...a normal day before her parents had tried to break them up. It helped. If she could do it, he could handle it.

By the time they got home, he felt wrung out like a sports towel. "I hope they get bored soon," he admitted as they walked in the door. "Or stop staring. I'm surprised no one's eyes popped out, or their tongues fell off."

Shelby smiled. "It'll pass. We're not the first couple to scandalize the school. Just the first to do it legally."

"That's my girl," he grinned, pausing to kiss her. "A ray of sunshine in everything."

"Oh good, you're home." His mother came down the stairs, dressed to go out. "I thought we'd go shopping."

Charlie stopped and stared at his mother. "Now? For what?"

His mother gave him one of those looks she gave his father from time to time, when she thought it ought to be obvious. "Essentials," she replied. "Your room isn't suited to two people, let alone three, and Shelby ought to have a proper wardrobe. That is, if you want," she amended, looking questioningly at Shelby, as if she wasn't sure she had overstepped. "I don't have any of my old maternity clothes left, unfortunately."

Charlie looked at his wife-he still had to think it consciously to keep from thinking girlfriend. Shelby nodded, and smiled tentatively. "I would like that, thank you."

Charlie thought she looked fine, but his mother nodded knowingly, and he wasn't about to argue with women about clothes. "Well, have fun."

"Oh, you're coming too." The tone in his mother's voice left no room for argument, and given the precarious position he was in with his parents right now, Charlie didn't think it would be wise to disagree about anything, not even the weather.

"Yes ma'am," he replied. He was already carrying his bag, and Shelby's. "Let me just put these away first." An entire afternoon shopping for maternity clothes. _Well if there's anything that makes me feel like an adult… I suppose that's it._

* * *

Alyse had planned the shopping trip for more than one reason. While she knew Shelby definitely needed proper-fitting maternity wear, she wanted to get to know her better. She had always thought she knew the young woman fairly well, given how often she had come over to study, but she had never expected Charlie or Shelby of something as complex and secretive as the plot they had pulled off to be together, or their desperation not to be pulled apart. Those feelings had been stronger than anything else. Alyse had also never expected to be living with the young woman who was now her daughter-in-law.

She really wanted the opportunity to talk to Shelby alone, but right now wherever Shelby was, Charlie was, and she figured Shelby would be more comfortable if he was along, at least for now. Besides, it would be good for her son to get a taste of just what he was in for the rest of his life. He had made a man's decision, and he was going to live with it.  
All in all, the afternoon seemed to go pleasantly enough. They went to the mall downtown, and spent a couple of hours. They got Shelby several outfits, sleepwear, properly fitting undergarments. Maternity fashion had improved by leaps and bounds since Alyse's day, and she knew hers had been more fashionable than what her mother had worn, or her grandmother!

"Are you sure?" Shelby asked, clearly trying not to look too closely at the price tags, but she had to have seen. "I'm only going to be pregnant for another couple of months."

"And post-pregnant for several more," Alyse replied knowledgeably. "They're a necessity, not a luxury, and don't undersell the importance of comfort and support. Besides which, if you ever have another, you'll already have the wardrobe for it."

Charlie blanched slightly at the mention of another child, and she managed not to smile. Good. Let him stew on that idea, while he was still getting used to the idea of the first one.

"Thank you."  
There was no further argument, and Alyse knew that Shelby was relieved to have clothing that fit properly; that didn't bite anywhere, and supported instead of constricted. It was true, she wasn't carrying large, but that just didn't matter when you were trying to make due with regular fashion.

After that, they stopped by the food court for ice cream. Then they went looking at baby things. They didn't buy much, but they spent a lot of time looking at the options, and discussing the pros and cons of cribs, changing tables, car seats, strollers, and even brands of diapers. Shelby had clearly already been doing research and was conversant in much of it. Charlie looked a bit dazed, but proved he wasn't ignorant of the subject either after a while, which pleased Alyse. It proved he really was all-in on this if he had been actively learning about baby care.

They shopped, and they discussed plans. She kept the topics safe, and let them volunteer information. There was a plan for classes, since Shelby would be missing more than a month of school in the middle of the semester. They had spoken with the school that day about Charlie bringing Shelby's assignments back and forth for a few weeks once the baby arrived. The school—not surprisingly—did have a very-not-publicized plan for getting students who were new mothers through classes. Shelby wasn't the first high school girl to get pregnant, just one of the youngest they'd ever had get married, since most of the time-as far as Alyse knew- it had happened with the Seniors. At least as far as them also being legally married. It wasn't that common, but it wasn't unheard of.

By the time they got home, most of the tension seemed to be gone between them, at least temporarily. As Charlie hauled everything upstairs, Shelby followed Alyse into the kitchen. "Thank you again," she said. "For today, for letting us live here, for everything."

Alyse turned to her, and smiled. "While I can't say I'm happy with _how_ we got to this point, Charlie is my son, and I love him. He loves you, and this is the decision you both made. I want you both to succeed and to be happy. I want your child to have a good life. What kind of mother would I be, to withhold support for my son when he's never needed it more?"

She realized that might not have been the best thing to say when Shelby's eyes welled with tears. "I wish my parents felt that way."

Alyse couldn't resist pulling Shelby into a hug. She was a little surprised when Shelby didn't resist, and hugged her back. "They still love you," she assured her. "I know they're hurting right now, and your father is angry, but they won't be forever. Honestly, your mother thought this was a better place for you right now too."

"She did?"

Alyse nodded. "Can you imagine Charlie living with your father?"

"No." There wasn't even a moment's hesitation. "They'd kill each other inside a week, if they made it that long." She shook her head. "Honestly, I was more afraid of my parents finding out than you. You liked me. My father never really liked Charlie all that much to begin with, and after he broke us up, I think it just got worse after that." She shook her head as Alyse released her and went to the refrigerator to pull out preparations for dinner. "I'm not sure, after we lied to you, I deserve your kindness. We were ready to do this on our own."

Alyse pulled out pork chops, onions, and carrots. "I know that, and I have no doubt that you'd have found a way to manage it, but it would have been far harder than it had to be, and nothing strains a relationship more than hard times, especially starting out. Now that you are married, you should have the opportunity to make it a good one. Work on your relationship; establish how you will be a family, while you have stability. Don't think of what we bought today as hand-outs, or charity. Think of them as wedding gifts."

That put a smile back on Shelby's face. She nodded, and joined her, picking up a cutting board and carrots. "I can do that."

 **December 12th, 1986**

Tore tried to keep his excitement inside as he waited for Dare and Lorraine at the train station. Still, he was excited. It had been months since his oldest son had gone off on his own, to start his military career, and there was part of Tore that he suspected would never stop thinking of Dare as the little boy that he had spent years raising on his own, before they had become the amazing family they had now. He was grateful that they had always remained close.

A closeness evidenced in the bear hug he got as his son disembarked from the train, and grabbed him. Tore hugged him back tightly. "Your grip has improved," he chuckled when they let go. His son had always been fit, but several months of training had definitely added muscle.

"PT will do that," Dare grinned.

Tore's hug for Lorraine was not quite as bone-crunching though equally enthusiastic. She looked surprisingly calm for a woman less than two weeks from her wedding. But then, Lorraine had always been very organized and put together. There wasn't much left to do, since her mother and Charisa had helped make sure everything was arranged here at home. The only thing she had brought from North City was the hanging bag that clearly held her wedding dress. "Well you both look great," Tore commented as he took a suitcase and led them back towards the car. "So you like North City?"

"As long as I'm warm enough," Dare commented, still smiling broadly. "Though the snow is beautiful."

"The wilderness is nice," Lorraine commented, "Though I spend so much time in the library that I'm surprised I ever see it during daylight hours, especially now that it's winter."

"The pleasures of college?" Dare teased his fiancé, putting one arm around her shoulder.

"You'll like it better when I graduate and get a job that makes better money than you," Lorraine teased back.

"I look forward to that day," he assured her.

By the time they arrived at the car, the flirtatious banter had turned back to conversation about the obvious topic, the wedding, and it was still on it by the time they arrived at the house, where Lorraine's parents were joining them all for dinner. Tore had hoped for a relaxing evening, but Charisa had assured him that- per Lorraine's preference- after dinner would also be a wedding workshop of its own, with Lorraine finally getting to lay eyes on all of the decorations and planning that had gone on so far. Of course, there would be days of that after as well, since they weren't going to the venue tonight, or the florist, or the photographer, or the bakery, but it should be enough to reassure the couple that everything really was going to be just perfect.

Tore was content to sit quietly and listen to the chatter over dinner. Dare was engaged in a detailed and enthusiastic conversation with Lorraine's father about the best location near North City for a summer home. Unsurprisingly, her family wanted to be able to visit them more regularly, and her father loved fishing and hiking.

Brandon and Camelia did their best to look interested, and Camelia might genuinely have been, since she was going to be the flower maiden. Still, Tore suspected his newly fourteen-year-old son would rather discuss just about anything besides his older brother's wedding plans. Brandon was always trying to differentiate himself from Dare, to stand out in his own right. Tore hoped his son knew that he and Charisa loved him for who he was, and thought he was exceptional in his own right, but he hadn't tried to stop Brandon from pursuing his passions. The motivation made him work hard.

"How was rehearsal?" Tore leaned sideways to ask.

Brandon's bored expression lit up. "Great! We'll be ready for Wednesday's opening performance."

"I can't wait." Tore really was looking forward to it. He had gone to every one of Brandon's middle school choral performances. He suspected that this would be even more enjoyable. "I got center front row seats."

"Really?" Brandon stared at him. "I didn't think they reserved seats in the auditorium."

"They do when I call and request it," Tore admitted, grinning. He'd have paid extra if they asked, but high school productions were not expensive, and they hadn't asked. They had, however, been very accommodating when the General and the Assemblywoman wanted great seats to see their son's performance. Tore tried not to abuse power often. He felt no guilt doing it for this show.

"That's great!" Brandon grinned. "You'll really like the show, Dad. It's dramatic, and gritty, and we've even got a fight scene!"

"Well, as long as those are the only fights you're ever in." Tore chuckled. He knew _West City Story_ reasonably well, though he hadn't seen it on stage. It helped that Brandon had been singing his parts non-stop for months around the house, and Tore had even helped him run lines several times.

"Do you win this one?" Dare cut in, leaning over towards his brother and joining the conversation.

"I get in a few good licks," Brandon nodded.

"Great! I can't wait to see it."

"You're coming?" Brandon looked startled.

Dare shook his head. "Of course I'm not going to miss this! We're coming on Wednesday, with Mom and Dad."

"But what about—"

"We're not getting married until Saturday evening," Dare pointed out. "We couldn't very well come to the Saturday matinee, could we?"

"Well no," Brandon acknowledged.

A Saturday that was going to be crazy, having to get Brandon to and from his performance, and to the wedding, and getting Dare and Lorraine married. Tore loved his family. He was just gratefully they were all relatively flexible people, and that Lorraine's parents were similarly inclined. Dare had been insistent that the schedule not require Brandon to miss a performance.

"Then that's settled," Dare nodded. "I'm not about to miss my brother's first big role. This is huge. I'm just sorry we missed the end of your soccer season."

"We _were_ pretty awesome," Brandon replied. The team had made it to the semi-finals of their conference before they had lost by one goal. "Too bad you missed it."

"Definitely my loss," Dare agreed before Lorraine's hand on his arm distracted him back to the wedding discussions.

Brandon, looking much more pleased by his older brother's comments, dug into his food with relish.

Tore sipped his glass of water, and smiled. 

* * *

_Author's Note 6/6/2017: We're back! Sorry for the dry spell folks! State Testing through the end of the year is an insane time to teach! Thanks for your patience._


	17. Part 2-7 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**December 15th, 1986**

"Life never gets dull around here, does it?" Edward asked Aldon with a chuckle as both of them sat in the waiting room of the Resembool hospital, waiting for word from the maternity ward that Reichart and Deanna were accepting visitors. True to the impatient nature of Elrics, baby number seven had decided he or she was in a rush to come into the world, and Reichart had called first his grandparents—who had a car—and then his parents, to let them know that Deanna had gone into labor almost two weeks early. It had been sudden, and painful, and Ed had driven over to give them a ride to the hospital.

Aldon had joined him, and Cassie had come along to take care of her daughter-in-law even though she wasn't on duty. Winry had stayed at Reichart and Deanna's to keep an eye on the children.

Once they had arrived and gotten Deanna settled into a delivery room and checked by the doctors, the concerned flurry of activity had died down, at least where the two men were concerned. Deanna and the baby were fine; the baby was just coming very fast.

Aldon shook his head, and sipped from a cup of cheap instant tea he'd gotten from the cafeteria. "Nope. Though Art did tell me last week he thinks this is probably the last one."

"Only probably?" Ed asked.

"Something about Deanna saying he'd better get fixed," Aldon grinned. "Sounds like number seven's finally tired her out on having new ones."

"We'll see how long that lasts." Ed wasn't entirely convinced. He could believe Deanna meant it now, but he had thought she and Reichart were done two offspring ago.

"We stopped, "Aldon pointed out.

"And then adopted," Ed reminded him.

"Callie was our second least planned child," Aldon agreed.

Ed nodded. "Art and Deanna did this on purpose."

"You and Mom never wanted more kids?" Aldon asked curiously.

"Hell, no." Ed shook his head vehemently. "Your mother would have killed me. She almost did anyway. Ethan was enough of a surprise, and the three of you were quite a handful sometimes." He eyed Aldon sideways. "Mostly as you got older."

Aldon shrugged, completely unembarrassed at this stage in life. "Yeah, well, Mom always says we took after you."

"Are you two going to banter like a pair of old nanny goats all morning?"

Ed looked up and saw Cassie standing in the doorway to the maternity ward, smiling tiredly.

"Just until there's something better to do," Aldon assured his wife, standing. "How's Deanna?"

"Just fine." Cassie crossed the floor, and hugged him briefly. "Baby's here. It's a good thing he decided to come early. He was already eight pounds. I can only imagine how big he'd have been in a couple of weeks."

"I'm glad it went well." Aldon relaxed. "So, can we go in?"

Cassie nodded. "Everyone's all cleaned up and resting. So guests are welcome, in small doses," she added, then looked up at Ed. "I hate to ask this first, but would you mind going back to the house and getting Rhiana, Owen, and Cailean?" she named off the three eldest. "They'd like to introduce him to his older siblings in batches."

"Sure," Ed assured her without hesitation. He'd get his turn in due time. "What do I tell Winry the new little fella is called?"  
Cassie smiled. "Pierce."

Ed tried not to laugh too much. It meant rock… given the size of the little fella, he supposed it was a very fitting name.

* * *

It was hours later that Ed was done ferrying family members back and forth in the car. First the oldest children had met their new baby brother, than Ed had taken a turn with the younger three, and by dinner time he had brought Cassie and Aldon home. Deanna's parents had made it out from their farm by then to visit and no one needed to be that crowded.

Besides, in a couple of days they would be home, and Ed knew that there would be plenty of time for everyone to spend with the baby after that. It wasn't as if there was a shortage of adorable children in the family.

One that just kept growing. "Any news from the other soon-to-be-parents?" Ed asked Winry that evening once they were comfortably home after dinner, sitting in front of the fireplace. Ed had the television on, but he had turned it down while waiting for the late evening news. Mal lay on the floor at his feet, cuddling with the two kittens who had decided that this was _their_ home and they and Mal had quickly become inseparable. They also made a striking pile of fur, the little calico girl, and the black boy with the single white spot, snuggled up against the mountain of white fur. They had named the girl Trefoil, or Trefi for short. The boy was Crescent due to the shape of his white spot. It had been that or Bean….which Winry had vetoed with an annoyed look. The black-and-white girl and the tabby-and-white boy had both gone to live with Urey's family, which had surprised no one. The remaining two tabby girls had gone to live at Reichart and Deanna's when it was all said and done, and the rest of the cats had gone back to the dairy farm.

"Well, Alphonse called earlier," Winry nodded, smiling from her spot in the overstuffed chair next to his lounging spot on the couch. She had pulled out yarn and needles and was crocheting something, a hobby she had picked up from Lia years ago. Ed noticed she did it much more often now. Winry always had to have something to do with her hands.

"They've heard from Minxia and Thrakos. Everything in their apartment is ready for the baby with a month to spare, including Minx," she chuckled, "who is apparently more than ready to be done with it."

"I seem to recall that last month is murder," Ed grinned.

"More of a miracle there isn't a murder," Winry quipped. "I think you underestimate how nice it is to be able to see, let alone touch, your own toes."

"I'm just happy to have toes," Ed reminded his wife, wiggling both of his currently sock-less feet. His metal toes flexed just as naturally looking as the real ones, if far shinier.

Winry shook her head, but she didn't stop smiling. "Everything's going just fine there," she continued, then paused.

Ed knew why, though that recent news still floored him. "And over at Alyse's?"

Winry shook her head, and continued crocheting, a little faster than before. "They're getting by. Al says everyone's still a bit shocked."

"A bit?" Ed snorted. "It's like someone dropped an explosive in the middle of everything. It just comes out of nowhere like that. I still remember how I felt when Aldon called to tell us about him and Cassie."

"But at least they were out of school, and they both had full time jobs," Winry pointed out.

Ed nodded. "And they weren't seventeen. I know! It's insane, but it's happened and there it is. I was curious how Alyse and Cal were taking it." He already knew that Alphonse, Elicia, and Gracia had been stunned, but that they also hadn't seen the couple in person more than once for dinner since the whole mess had blown up.

"From what I gather, Alyse is handling better than Calvin," Winry watched her stitches carefully. "She's working very hard to make sure they have a chance of succeeding, now that they've made up their minds, and is trying to make everything work. Cal's taking it a lot harder."

Ed sighed. He'd expected as much. While Alyse was the stickler for rules, and the one anyone outside the family might have expected to freak out at her son and his girlfriend getting pregnant and married in high school-and he was sure she was upset-she also loved her family too much to let it fall apart. And Cal… well, anyone who knew him knew how desperately he had wanted his children to grow up to not be as screwed up as he saw himself. He suspected Cal blamed himself for this turn of events, no matter how ridiculous that might be in point of fact. "I'm not sure whether I should send them a baby gift or him a bottle of whiskey," he admitted, only half in jest. They would be going back up to Central again for the winter holidays this year, to be there for Dare's wedding.

"Maybe both," Winry replied. "I imagine news of this can't be going over well at Headquarters."

Ed groaned. No, no it wouldn't, even if it was legal. "You know, I had forgotten it was legal to get married at seventeen in this country?"

Winry shook her head, and smiled at him. "That's just because you were never here to watch all the shotgun weddings."

"Better watch than be one," Ed couldn't help snickering, just a little. It was true, a lot of the farm families married younger, and often just because of situations like this one. But it wasn't as common in the cities, like Central, and it certainly got a lot more attention in a big school like that one, especially with high profile parents.

" _Edward_."

"Sorry." He sat up, getting a better view of her working. Now he could tell she was working on a baby sized little hat. "You're going to need to make a lot of those this year."

She smiled softly. "I know. It's a good thing I have a lot of yarn."

 **December 17th, 1986**

Dare put one arm around Lorraine's shoulders as they settled into the front row seats his father had _reserved_ for this evening's opening performance. "Seems weird to be back here," he chuckled softly. It seemed like so much longer since they had graduated and moved North. Apparently time didn't fly when you were doing military training. Still, he was glad that the timing of the wedding meant he could also support his little brother. It wasn't like he had ever tried to make Brandon feel like he had to live up to everything Dare did. Honestly, he thought his brother was fabulous the way he was, but there was something about being brothers that made it hard to convince Brandon that it was the truth.

"Don't tell me you feel old already," Lorraine teased him gently, leaning against his shoulder, her tight-curled blonde hair brushing his face. "It's been less than two years."

"I know, but I never realized how long that was until we weren't slogging through school."

"Speak for yourself," she poked him playfully in the arm.

"All right, I'm sorry, _miss college student_." He kissed her cheek. "But that was your choice."

"Hey, enough flirting," his father quipped from the seat to his left at the same time as the lights began to dim. "Show's starting."

Dare settled back, looking forward to seeing this show more than any of the ones he had come to in high school. Performing was definitely Brandon's thing, not his. He had enjoyed supporting his friends, though.

The music—provided by a select group of the best players from the school band and orchestra—started, and the curtain opened. The lights came up on a set made of metal bars, stairs, and backdrops painted to look like the low-end streets of West City.

Dare let himself be swept up in the enthusiastic-and surprisingly good-rendition of the opening number as the rival gangs quibbled. His brother, the lead, and the rest of their gang had an encounter with the other gang, and both wanted to fight, but intervention from cooler heads convinced them to meet up at the school dance instead and talk things out. Or dance things out, it seemed when they got that far. He knew the story. It was one of his mother's favorite musicals. Still, it was nice to be swept away by the live performance. The romantic leads, Toby and Manisa had a lot of chemistry, and Dare found himself squeezing Lorraine's shoulders through their meeting, their clandestine romantic scenes and planning to find a way to end the feud between their gangs, and he even had a tear in his eye at the end, as Ray tried to save Toby who was stabbed in the fight that broke out at the end.

It wasn't a happy ending, but it was an emotional one, and Dare enjoyed himself. He particularly enjoyed watching Brandon throughout the performance. As the leader of Toby's gang, the character of Ray was in more than half the show. He sang in several numbers, had some good choreography in the group numbers, and was critical to the plot.  
At the end, he was in the group that bowed next-to-last before the main leads. Dare was on his feet with the rest of his family, giving the whole show a standing ovation.  
Afterwards they went backstage and waited for Brandon to come out of the dressing room. Finally, he appeared with several more cast members. There were a lot of parents waiting, and lots of hugging and chatter.

"So, what did you think?" Brandon asked, looking exhilarated, tired, and a little nervous.

"Magnificent!" their mother grinned, enveloping Brandon in an enthusiastic hug.

"It was great," Dad assured him, though he didn't try to crush Brandon. Instead he just gave him a pat on the shoulder. Camelia was nodding enthusiastically and babbling about her favorite parts, though she seemed to be more interested in the leads, who were standing several feet away surrounded by friends and family.  
Brandon returned their affection before glancing over at Dare. "Well?"

 _Still looking for my approval, little brother?_ Dare smiled and gave him a thumb's up. "I forgot it was you up there," he commented.

Brandon gave him a confused look, then laughed. "Thanks. That is kind of the idea."

"So I think a great opening deserves a celebration," their father said. "Who wants to stop on the way home for dessert at Valuncio's?"

Dare chuckled, even as Brandon gave an enthusiastic grin and a "yes!" The expensive Cretan patisserie was a family favorite dating back to Grandpa Heymans. It was odd sometimes, being the only one of his siblings to really remember him, or to ever remember when they weren't all a family, though those days were fuzzier in his memory now.

"I'm in," he agreed. "Lor?" he turned to his fiancée.

"As if you need to ask," she chuckled, shaking her head. "They're the best dessert shop in town!"

"And here I thought all brides starved themselves before their weddings."

"If a single dessert would ruin the look of my dress, than I would have picked the wrong dress to start with," Lorraine replied with a laugh. "After all, a woman has to be able to move, dance, and eat in it."

His practical, realistic, wonderful Lorraine. Dare grinned as they followed the rest of the family out to the car. He wasn't sure why the other guys in the barracks thought he should be nervous about getting permanently hitched. _He_ was looking forward to it.

 **December 18th, 1986**

Part of Gloria's mind still didn't entirely want to believe what her mother had told her on the phone, but as soon as she walked in the door of the family house, she could no longer pretend that it wasn't a fact that her younger brother had gone and married his supposedly-ex girlfriend, and that she was most _definitely_ pregnant.

It put a bit of a damper on the excitement of being back in town to be one of Lorraine's bride's maids in the wedding of two of her good friends. Still, it was done, and apparently her parents had decided that they were going to accept it and this was the best way to handle things so, while she thought her whole family might have gone temporarily insane, she took a deep breath, and dealt with it, hugging her mother while her father put her suitcases upstairs for her.

Then she hugged Charlie, though it felt stiff to her, and she was sure he felt her tension. Then, she turned to Shelby, not sure if she was expected to hug her brother's wife. She had always liked Shelby, but this felt like a betrayal, on both of their parts, and Gloria still wasn't sure how to deal with that feeling.

Shelby saved her the awkwardness but offering her a small smile and a hand to shake. Gloria could do that. She nodded, and managed a polite smile back. "It's nice to see you again." That, at least, she could say with honesty. If circumstances were different, she would have been very happy for Charlie that he and Shelby had been able to get back together.

Dinner was graciously un-awkward. Her mother had prepared a large meal, and kept dinner conversation on easy topics, like her work, and the upcoming wedding, which they were all attending, and Gloria was in.

"When is Alexei arriving?" her mother asked over dessert.

"Why is _he_ coming?" Her father looked up sharply.

Gloria refrained from giving her father a withering look. "Dare and Lorraine said I could bring a guest, you know, for when I'm _not_ in the wedding." They, at least, had been thrilled to hear she had a boyfriend and one who might bring her up toward North City more often. They had insisted that she could invite him, and so she had been very happy to do so. She turned back to her mother. "He's arriving tomorrow afternoon. Is it all right if I borrow the car to pick him up?"

"Of course it is," Alyse smiled. "It will be very nice to see him again."

Gloria ignored her father's quickly stifled displeasure, choosing not to ask why it was he had such obvious problems with her choice of boyfriend, when her brother was the one living at home with his pregnant wife.

"If you're going to take it, I'd better finish that oil change and tune-up I started this morning." Charlie stood up, and excused himself from the table.

"It's my night for dishes," Shelby smiled as she stood more slowly, and started clearing.

When dinner was over, her father went into the home office and her mother went upstairs. Since Shelby was still in the kitchen, and Gloria didn't feel like going to her room, she went downstairs to the garage.

Charlie was under the car on the roller, only his legs sticking out.

Gloria was glad to finally catch her brother alone. "How could you do this to Mom and Dad?"

Charlie didn't move. "What are you talking about?"

"Did you think about anyone but yourselves when you decided on this insanity?"

Charlie slid out from under the car, and glared up at her. "What makes you think you have a say in what I do?"

"In case you've forgotten, I'm still part of this family," Gloria scowled back. "The sane part, it seems to me. What the _hell_ were you thinking? Shacking up in some garage? _Eloping?_ And now you're going to drag some poor kid into this world with parents who haven't even finished a basic high school education? Please, explain to me how you ever thought this was anything but an idiotic idea, because I really thought you had more common sense!"

She hadn't meant to go there, not all the way, not yet, but days of frustration and confusion bubbled out of her.

Charlie was on his feet, and for a moment she was startled. She had forgotten he was taller than her now. "Oh, get off your high horse," he spat back. "Miss _college girl_. Miss _straight As_ with the intellectual older lover that gives Dad stress-lines every time anyone even mentions he exists. What am _I_ doing to Mom and Dad?"

Gloria had had _enough._ "Yes, me, the one working her ass off to get through school which I have paid for so far entirely _by myself_ through scholarships I _earned_ and my own hard work. The intellectual boyfriend who is a responsible, respectful man who is not even four years older than I am and _I have not slept with_!" Lover, as romantic a term as that was, was not something she could honestly apply to that situation. They had both agreed it was far, far too soon in the relationship for that kind of intimacy. "So don't go trying to compare me living a normal, respectable life to your impulsive run of terrible life choices!"

Charlie looked like he wanted to push past her, but Gloria was standing between him and the door. Instead, he balled his fist around the oil-stained rag in his hand. "If you say one word to upset Shelby I swear I will-"

"What? Hit me? Shout? Glare like a sullen teenager? You still haven't answered my question, Charles. What _ever_ made you think that any of this was a good idea when all you had to do was _wait another year-and-a-half_ and you could have done whatever you wanted?"

Her brother was shaking. His hands clenched, and unclenched, and Gloria was startled to see tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

And then she felt rotten. Angry as she was, hurt as she was, as much as she knew her parents were in agony over this, he was still her baby brother. The one she would have risked her life to save from kidnappers. "I'm sorry, Charlie," she said softly. "I'm just… worried for you, and shocked, and… I love you." She leaned in and hugged him tentatively.  
The force behind his arms startled her as he pulled her close, and hugged her fiercely. Hot tears fell between them, and she felt them on the shoulder of her shirt, and for a moment he was just that, her impulsive, trouble-making, well-intentioned baby brother. "I couldn't wait, Sis," he finally said in little more than a whisper. "It was killing me… both of us. I… we know it was crazy, but there just wasn't another way."

Much as she wanted to argue that point, she didn't push any further. It was done. She could support her brother and help him succeed, or criticize and possibly watch him fail. Approval was not required, only love and understanding. And she understood, in a way she hadn't beyond the academic, why her parents could never have let them be anywhere else. She sighed. "Then maybe _you_ can teach me how to stop Dad from having a fit every time I even mention Alexei's name."

Charlie straightened up, and smiled weakly. "Well, don't try it my way."

Gloria smiled. "Your way, on anything, has almost always been my last choice."

"Only almost?"

"You do make the best cinnamon sweet-toast in the family."


	18. Part 2-8 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**December 20th, 1986**

It was going to be a long day, but an enjoyable one, at least for Tore who was quite happy to be father of the groom. It meant all he had to do was show up, keep other people calm, and enjoy watching his son marry the woman he loved. Given Dare and Lorraine had been dating since mid-way through high school, there wasn't even any inter-family awkwardness to be concerned about. Everyone knew each other and got along.

Keeping other people calm, as it turned out, mostly meant making sure Charisa had anything she needed as they arrived at the wedding venue early and worked on any final set-up, making sure everything was perfect. Gloria didn't need help staying calm. She was the one off helping take care of the bride. Dare was more relaxed than Tore had been the day of his own wedding. "What's to worry about?" he asked when Tore checked on him. "We walk up the aisle, say our vows, kiss until we make the great-grandparents uncomfortable, and then there's dancing and cake and the rest of our lives." He grinned broadly. "As long as we're married at the end of the day, everything's gone right."

"I like that attitude."

Tore and Dare both turned at the sound of that familiar voice. Tore smiled as Edward Elric walked into the room. He knew Ed and Winry had arrived from Resembool late the night before on the train, and were staying through the winter holidays this year.

"Grandpa!" Dare gave Ed an enthusiastic hug, which was just as solidly returned. "I'm so glad you and Granny Winry could make it."

"So are we," Ed assured him, chuckling. "There's snow coming in tonight."

Dare laughed. "A couple of inches. There's been a foot in North City for two weeks now. This is nothing."

"He's already gone northern native," Tore quipped.

"At least he'll have a way to keep warm." Ed grinned wickedly.

Dare didn't blush. "More like I'll keep her warm," he replied. "She's the one who gets cold."

"Hey, Dare!" Heads turned to see Jay Stevens waving. "They want you over here to start pictures."

"I'm coming," Dare called back. "See you later," and he was off.

Tore watched him go.

"You did a good job."

He looked at Ed, who was smiling at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on," Ed scoffed. "I still remember the day you brought him home."

Tore shook his head. "Yeah. I was a mess." He'd been so hungover he was still drunk from the night before, reeling from the shock of Cecelia's suicide and the news that he had a son he knew nothing about. A son he now could not imagine having not had in his life, who had changed his life and in a way, saved his. Though Tore could never have seen it at the time. "He turned out a lot better than I ever could have imagined," he admitted. "Mostly thanks to Charisa's amazing parenting, but I like to think at least part of that was me too."

"You raised him on your own for years," Ed reminded him. "Take the credit you deserve. It's hard to be a single parent."

"How would you know?" Tore asked, though there was no malice in it.

Ed shrugged. "I watched you. You both struggled, and you learned. You've given your family everything they need, and Dare has turned out to be a great young man, like his father."

Tore shook his head. "He's better than I was. He's responsible, considerate, and he's done everything right."

"Because he had good guidance and the room to grow." Ed nodded. "He never had to face the things you did, growing up." Then he chuckled. "Hell, I'm starting to sound like a musing old man."

"Bad news, Fullmetal," Tore grinned. "You _are._ "

"Don't tell Winry. Come on, I'd like to say hello to the rest of your family before things get too hectic."  
"Sure thing."

* * *

Charlie was glad he and Shelby didn't have to be at the wedding for anything official. As happy as he was to be married to her, and have her, the general public response was more mixed than he had really anticipated. He had figured that, outside of immediate family, most people wouldn't care or it would settle down quickly. Now, he was beginning to realize just how much longer and far reaching the reactions were to what he and Shelby had done. Gloria going off on him hadn't really been _un_ expected, but he hadn't been prepared for the vehemence, or the accusation of how much he was hurting their parents and had acted selfishly.

The truth was, he had already thought those things too, especially since his parents had taken in Shelby and insisted they live in the house. Their being so supportive was almost worse. Proud as he had been, and as much as he wouldn't take it back in a million years, going out in public had proven to be more difficult than he had expected, and this was a big formal event.

Charlie had gotten permission to take the second car to the wedding later, when his parents and Gloria went over earlier since Gloria was part of the wedding. Which meant he and Shelby had the morning to themselves, which was pleasant, since they both slept in. Shelby spent a lot of her free time sleeping. Charlie hadn't realized how much until they had moved in together, and he saw her every evening, all the time. How she had hidden this from her parents for so long he could not imagine, seeing how much it had really affected her. She never complained though.

By early afternoon they were both up, showered, and ready to go. Charlie tried to feel comfortable in the suit. He'd had to get a new one, since the last time he needed one for a formal event had been two years before, and he had gotten several inches taller since then. It had been a boy's suit anyway.

"You look dashing," Shelby smiled as he straightened his tie in the bathroom mirror.

Charlie smiled and turned around. "I'm glad you think so." He was glad he at least looked like an adult in a suit. Maybe people who didn't know them would assume they were college kids, and wouldn't find the wedding rings or Shelby's pregnancy something to stare at. "You look beautiful."

Given how much her pregnancy had advanced in the past few weeks, there was no hiding it now, and the dress she was wearing certainly didn't, though the way the silky deep green fabric gathered under the bust and then fell, long and flowy down to mid-calf was very flattering. Shelby nodded, looking a little less than thrilled. "Thank you. I feel like a melon."

Charlie rested one hand on her stomach. "Well, at least you're a cute melon?" he suggested. He was rewarded by the distinct and now more regular thump of the baby against his hand.

Shelby shook her head, but she smiled. "I can live with that."

Charlie kissed her gently. "Do you regret that we didn't have a big wedding like this?" he asked. It was something that had been bothering him as the day got closer. Shelby had said for months that all she cared about was that they were together. The little civil ceremony, with Marlie and Gill as witnesses had been enough for them both. At least, she'd said that. For Charlie, it was all that mattered, but he knew how much girls dreamed about their weddings, and he wondered.

She looked surprised for a moment, before she shook her head. "No. I mean, it might have been nice, if the situation was different, but it's fine. I do hope, at some point, we can have a real celebration, when my parents would be willing to attend. Maybe for an anniversary?"

"Our first?" Charlie suggested. He liked that idea. "We'd have plenty of time to plan." By then, they would be eighteen, and the baby would have had time to work the magic of being the grandchild on both families. He couldn't imagine Shelby's parents hating a baby.

"I like that idea." Shelby leaned against him for a moment, and he hugged her. "All right, we should go. I don't want to miss anything!"

Charlie couldn't help smiling. She always had that effect on him. "All right. Let's get your coat and go." He couldn't have her getting cold! His suit was warm enough. He offered her his arm. "My lady?"

She took his arm. "Lead the way."

* * *

It was a beautiful ceremony. Gloria managed to keep from getting teary-eyed, but that was only because she was standing up front as one of Lorraine's bride's maids and refused to cry in front of the entire assembled group of families, even from joy. Growing up, Dare had always been one of her closest friends, despite being a boy. Their parents' friendship had certainly brought them into contact often, but they had been in the same social circles at school as well, and Gloria and Lorraine had become friends even before she started dating Dare. Gloria had always thought they made a great pair, and was thrilled that her friends had managed to stick together after high school.

Watching Dare, looking dashing in a suit—particularly with as much muscle as he'd put on since joining the military—gazing adoringly at Lorraine, who looked stunning in a dress of the shiniest white winter wool, in flowing simple lines that were supremely elegant, Gloria hoped that they would be that happy forever. Their vows were sweet and simple. When they kissed, a tear did escape and run down her cheek.

The moments flew by, and before long the ceremony was over, and they had all recessed out of the main room and out into the garden, where snow had begun to fall, covering everything in a sprinkling of white. It was perfect for a winter wedding, and the warm clothes that had been chosen in consideration of that fact. There, she posed when asked, as part of the final wedding party photos, while she knew the rest of the guests were filing into the dining room for dinner.

Gloria was a little surprised when Alexei came out into the garden, and spoke briefly with the photographer. She was even more surprised when he was handed a camera and started assisting. Suddenly she felt warm, knowing that Alexei's camera was, at least peripherally, trained on her. There was little time to dwell on it though, since the actual photographer kept directing them into different groups. After a few minutes, the bride's maids were done, and she stepped off to the side while they finished up family group shots.

When it got down to just the couple shots, everyone else vanished back inside, and Alexei set down the camera. He grinned when he spotted her waiting. "You look radiant this evening," he smiled as he offered her his arm. "But chilly."

"I don't mind the cold," Gloria replied, feeling a little foolish. The truth was, she felt warm in his presence. She had forgotten how cold it was out here in the snow, while he was there.

Alexei chuckled. "I have to admit, compared to North City, this is just pleasantly cool. I'm glad you like it though. We should go inside. They're starting to serve."

"Of course." She took the offered arm and allowed him to lead her inside. "Do you know the photographer?"

Alexei nodded, grinning. "Stan and I went to college together, same program actually, though he went in a more artistic direction. He always did prefer the photography side of the work. I offered to help, because it's much easier and faster to get a variety of shots if you have more than one person working."

It did allow for more artistic shots. Gloria could see that. "I'm sure they'll be wonderful."

"Well, I just hope they turn out well," Alexei chuckled. "This lighting is tricky, with sunset and snow."

"It's beautifully magical," Gloria replied. "I've been to a lot of weddings, but I don't think I've seen weather that fits the mood quite as much as this. I'd never have thought of it myself." Her mother had organized so many weddings, and Gloria had attended family ones, and those of family friends. Even the winter weddings had been entirely indoors if they were at night, or they had been in the bright of day.

"Almost all Drachman weddings have snow," Alexei chuckled. "I've visited my father's relatives many times over the years. Since his family forgave him for not returning after the war, I was at the weddings of all of my older cousins. It's quite beautiful."

"Is there ever not snow in Drachma?" Gloria asked.

"In the summer," Alexei nodded. "If they live in the southern quarter of the country, sometimes everything thaws out enough to get as warm as North City. The summer is short and humid. Further north, it thaws, but I don't think I've ever heard of it getting above about forty-five degrees."

So enough to thaw things, and maybe cold loving plants to bloom, but nothing else. "If it's as beautiful as this, I can see why it would be charming."

"Someday, when you have time, if you like, I'll show you Drachma, the way my family sees it," Alexei beamed, clearly pleased at her honest interest.

"I would like that very much."

* * *

Alyse had cried tears of joy at the ceremony, as she did at almost all weddings, though they were quiet tears, quickly dabbed away by a handkerchief. The real tears of joy today belonged to the parents of the bride and groom, of course. Then she had stepped in to make sure everything was running smoothly as the guests filed into the dining room for dinner, and the families and bridal party vanished outside for official pictures. By the time she found Cal again, he was sitting at their assigned table, looking stiff in his formal uniform, and making small talk with her father and Uncle Edward.

Charlie and Shelby were standing over with another group, and it looked like they were having an enjoyable conversation. Her son and his wife were smiling and talking animatedly. He had one arm protectively, though lightly, around her shoulders. It was a casual gesture that, Alyse knew, was his way of keeping both of them a little more at ease. It was nice to see them relaxing a bit.

A smiling face and a hug from Winry distracted her. "It's so good to see you," Alyse hugged her aunt.

Winry smiled. "We seem to be traveling a lot this year. It's good to see you too. I love your hair!"

"Thank you." Alyse chuckled, but she was glad her aunt had noticed. Almost a year after losing it, her hair had grown back to a just-above-the-shoulder length that she had purposefully cut it to more than once. "It's nice to have it at a length I can style it again. At least something is back to normal."

Winry nodded, though she seemed to catch Alyse's double meaning, because she looked past her towards Charlie. "I admit, you're much calmer about that than I expected," she commented quietly.

Alyse gave a tiny shrug. "I think a year ago, I would have been furious. Now, yes I'm upset, and I'm angry, and I'm stunned, but it just doesn't do any good to rant or yell about it. It wouldn't have changed anything, and I care more about my family being whole than mistakes. Besides, Cal's done enough yelling and growling for us both."

Winry's expression turned sympathetic. Wisely she didn't look at the table behind them. "I would have thought he would be the more understanding."

Alyse wished that were true. "He sees it as proof that the men in his family are fatally flawed. It's his worst nightmares about parenthood coming true, and I haven't been able to convince him that _he_ isn't at fault. He tried to handle the situation last spring, and then Charlie went and planned… well, what he did." She truly felt he had done a good job of handling the situation, even if it wasn't how she might have done it. What Charlie had chosen to do _wasn't_ his fault.

"Maybe Ed can talk him around," Winry replied. "It wasn't the same situation, but we did a lot of soul searching when Aldon called to tell us Cassie was pregnant, and they'd gotten married without telling us."

Alyse blinked. That had been so long ago, and she had been young enough, that she had almost forgotten what had—at the time—qualified as the big family scandal. Aldon and

Cassie had moved in together and had an understanding that they _would_ get married, but then Cassie had gotten pregnant before they could tell the family their plans. "I'd forgotten," she admitted softly.

Winry smiled. "That's all right. There's no reason to remember. Family always matters. We didn't want to let what happened put a rift between us and Aldon, so we didn't. Aldon and Cassie moved in with us until after Coran was born. Then, when they had work and a place to go, they moved to Resembool and were able to do just magnificently on their own."

Without any life-ending disasters. It was the most reassuring thing Alyse had heard since Charlie and Shelby had dropped the news on them. "That's how we feel," she agreed.

"It's just, hard."

"It gets easier," Winry promised. "Be honest with them, and they'll see they can be honest with you about how they feel. You'll find a balance again."

"Hopefully sooner and not later." Alyse nodded.

A stir by the door drew everyone's attention as the bridal party started to return. First Tore and Charisa entered, then a few others. The extended-family photos had been taken earlier in the day. Then the bridesmaids and groomsmen, at least some of them. Alyse was beginning to wonder where her daughter had gone, when she entered, on the arm of Alexei.

"He's even more handsome than I'd heard," Winry commented, smiling.

"I can't fault her taste," Alyse agreed with a chuckle. Gloria's choice of a slightly older, intellectual professional writer, particularly a tall, handsome one, wasn't at all surprising. _That_ relationship seemed to be moving at a nice, comfortable pace Alyse was perfectly happy with. Nice and slow, and at no point had her daughter suggested altering her life plan before she finished her schooling and started a career. She just wished Cal were as happy about it. "If they survive the remaining years at distance, I think there's a very good chance he may be the one for her."

"It's amazing what love can survive." Winry's smile became wistfully happy. "Speaking of love…"

Cheers erupted as Dare and Lorraine entered the room, looking like a winter prince and princess. Alyse happily turned her attention to the couple as they moved to the head table. It was time for toasts, dinner, and dancing.

* * *

Charisa's heart was full, and she couldn't stop smiling. It was a beautiful day, and she couldn't be happier watching Dare and Lorraine pledge their lives to each other. They were a wonderful match, and she hoped they would be as happy as she and Tore. Watching them take their first steps onto the dance floor after dinner and cutting the cake, it was impossible to ignore the way they looked at each other.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, that she was almost surprised when Dare was standing right in front of her. He grinned and held out his hand. "Our turn, Mom."  
Charisa took his hands, and followed him out onto the dance floor. It had been years since she had married Tore, and Dare started calling her Mom instead of "Auntie Risa." She had stopped thinking of him as anything other than her son, though it had occurred to her during the wedding planning, that if things had been different, she wouldn't have been the one dancing with their oldest boy. But Dare had insisted on the traditional mother-son dance, and she had been very pleased.

Now they danced together, spinning around the floor to one of the songs they had danced around the living room too when Dare was a boy. Only now he was a grown man, who looked uncannily like his father, but a little taller, a little more solid. Thankfully, he was much calmer than Tore had ever been.

"You have that face," he chuckled softly.

"Which face?"

"The sappy wistful Mom face."

"Well what can I say? You're an amazing son."

He spun her around, grinning. "It's only because I have the most amazing mom." He pulled her in close. "You've given me so much, and I can't imagine life without you. Thank you so much for being my mother. I love you."

Joyful tears stung at the corners of her eyes. Charisa smiled. In a way, their relationship was even more special, because it was one of choice. The three of them had chosen to become a family back then. If Dare hadn't wanted it, she and Tore would never have forced it on him. It had always meant a lot to her that Dare had wanted her to be his mother. "I love you, too."

The dance didn't last nearly long enough. It seemed mere moments before it was over, and Charisa handed Dare back off to his new wife.

"May I cut in?"

She turned and smiled at Tore as she stepped into his arms. "Always."

* * *

It was a quiet drive home after the wedding. Cal and Alyse were alone in the car. Gloria had stayed later to help with cleanup, and spend more time with Alexei, given his visit to Central was very short. Charlie and Shelby had the other car and had left earlier, so for a few minutes they were alone.

Cal had gotten very quiet as soon as they left, and Alyse waited, letting him sift through his thoughts and focus on driving. If he wanted to talk, it was usually better to let him start the conversation, when he had his thoughts in order.

So they arrived home in silence. He held the door for her, and they went inside. Upstairs, the house was quiet, and the light under Charlie and Shelby's door was out, which implied they had already gone to bed, which didn't surprise Alyse. Shelby always went to bed early. Charlie went with her, but she doubted he fell asleep immediately. He had always been more of a night owl. Most nights there was at least a low light while he read a book after she fell asleep. Still, it was considerate of him to curl up with her until she slept. He was so tender, so careful with her; it definitely gave Alyse hope for their future.

Alyse took off her dress, getting into a warm, flannel nightgown. By the time she was ready for bed, Cal was already in bed under the covers, though he wasn't asleep. Alyse turned off the light and snuggled up beside him. Without hesitation, his arms curled around her, and then he squeezed a little tighter than usual.

"Thank you," he murmured into her hair.

"For what?"

"I couldn't live without you," he replied softly. "You, rather literally, saved my life that day."

Which day was he talking about? "I think I'd remember saving your life. I've taken care of you enough times."

"The first day we met."

"Not the day we started going out again?" Alyse remembered the first day they met. He had run into her in the hallway at Headquarters. She had only been eighteen at the time, and then she had broken up with him only a few weeks later. Surely he would have named the day they started going out for the second time.

Cal shook his head. "Before that… after the war in Aerugo, I was broken, battered, and hopelessly lonely. I was always in pain, and alone. There were days I wished I'd died when I stepped on that landmine. Then I met you, and I remembered what it was like to have hope, to see the world with youthful eyes. You were so beautiful and full of life. I wanted to be near that….to taste it… to drink it in, and maybe fill the hole that alcohol couldn't. I wanted to feel alive again. You made me feel that way when nothing else could."

Alyse didn't speak. There were times she didn't need to interrupt.

She didn't have to ask. Cal pulled her closer. "I'm not drunk."

"I know you're not, love."

"I just… I know why Charlie did it. When I was his age, Val was a refuge from the hate and frustration between me and my Dad. She was life, and freedom, and the future. I didn't know then that we were a lousy pair personality-wise. I loved her with everything in me, because she could save me from myself. At least, that was what I thought. I was so, so very wrong…. But when things got difficult, Charlie did exactly the same thing. He was drawn to the stable, happy, beautiful goodness in his life. Only he has much better taste in women than I did at his age."

Alyse tilted her head so she could see something other than his neck when she opened her eyes. His face in view, she brought one hand up, touching the side of it. "The two of you _are_ different people."

"But there are some things we have always had in common." Cal sighed, looking slightly ashamed, even in the moonlight that glinted in the window off the snow still falling outside. "Things I can't help but recognize now as things I hated in my father, but maybe I was too judgmental. I never thought about how he saw what I'd done. We argued, and fought, and hated each other. The harder he tried to force me in line, the more I fought back just to do it… and that's the last thing I want for Charlie."

"You're nothing like that." Alyse kissed him tenderly. "You tried to help him. You even tried to smooth things over, and you cautioned him, but you didn't make demands."

"I grounded him."

"But you weren't the one who tried to break them up. Nor did the punishment continue after it was done. Charlie's choice was not your fault, and now he and Shelby are here, where we can be supportive when they need it. You didn't kick Charlie out in the street. Yes, you lost your temper. We were all upset. They _expected_ us to be upset. What matters now is what we do going forward, and I truly think this is the right thing. The real world will hit them far harder, and teach them lessons far better, than we ever will. The best thing we can do is set them up to succeed on their own."

Cal gave her a funny look. "You've been talking to Winry."

"How did you know?"

"Because Fullmetal told me something very similar."

"Sage advice. Definitely seems like we should follow it."

"And if I told you he recommended I spent more time in bed with my wife?"

Alyse refrained from snorting. Not that she would put something like that past her uncle, but she doubted he had said anything like that _tonight._ "I'd say it's time to snuggle up and go to sleep, but I don't have to go anywhere in the morning."

Cal kissed her again. "Sounds perfect."


	19. Part 2-9 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**January 20th, 1987**

Ren felt no guilt, none at all, for leaving Ethan to run the Clinic for a month on his own while she and Will travelled to Pylos to visit Minxia and Thrakos and be there for the birth of their first grandchild. After all, she had done it while Ethan and Lia went to East City that summer. It was just a perfectly fair trade.

More than fair, she thought as she sat in her daughter's hospital room, cradling her first grand-baby in her arms. Thrakos' mother had already taken her turn, holding the heir to the Argyros name. "What a handsome boy you are, Damien," she cooed. "Such a good boy too, coming right on time and so nicely for your mother."

Minxia chuckled tiredly from the bed. She had cleaned up, taken a quick shower, and eaten since her son was born, but she still looked tired. Still, it had been a trouble-free delivery as things went, much to Ren's relief. Damien had come quickly and without complications. "If that's easy, I'm glad it wasn't _hard._ " She was teasing, of course, but then nothing ever really got Minxia down. Her daughter was tough that way.

"It's just because you're amazing at everything you do," Thrakos grinned as he gave Minxia a squeeze with the arm he had draped around her shoulders. "I was here, and I still feel like I'm not sure you how managed to get a big boy like him out."

Minxia winked at him. "Flexibility."

Thrakos' deep skin hid blushing well, but Ren caught a hint of red on his ears.

"My turn." Will commented insistently, and Ren handed the baby over to his grandfather, who held him carefully and turned around so the baby's other grandfather, Arius, could also see the strong young boy their kids had made.

Ren turned her attention back to her daughter. "I can't remember the last time I was so wonderfully unnecessary during a delivery," she admitted, chuckling. Not being there _as_ a physician or alkahestrist was weird enough. Also not being the patient made her feel unnecessary. However, in this case, that was a good thing. She was there for the same reason as the rest of them, to support her daughter and welcome the baby into the world. That, and make sure Thrakos survived.

Her son-in-law had done an admirable job.

"All right," Thrakos stood up, and moved around the bed, going over to Will and his father, who was now holding the baby. "I'd like my son back."

Arius looked at his son for a moment, nonplussed by the commanding tone. Then he laughed. "Of course. Though I want time to spoil my grandson properly later."

"You'll have plenty of time for that," Thrakos chuckled as he gathered the baby in his arms. "When he's old enough to care about getting and doing things." Given he already had a room packed full of baby things waiting at their home, Ren could only agree. He wasn't going to want for anything. Thrakos' family was much like the one she had been raised in, even without the imperial titles. A princess of Xing never lacked for anything, unless it was time to goof off without worrying about public representation of the family name. The money meant flexibility, it meant opportunities. Thrakos and Minxia were very fortunate that they didn't have to worry about both working while Damien was tiny. They would, of course, but only because they loved what they did. Working for the preservation of historical sites, a project that was managed between the University, the National Museum, and the government, they could work almost anywhere, depending on which project needed their attention and protection at the time.

"For now, we'll just love him," she commented sensibly. "It's you who have the most work to do."

"Yeah, I know." Thrakos smiled adoringly down at his son, and looked just a little nervous. "Now we have to raise him."

"He'll have a great time," Minxia insisted, smiling. "What boy wouldn't love growing up digging in the dirt of ancient cities?"

Thrakos laughed. "And what will you do if he decides he wants to be a socialite, or a financial advisor?"

"On the latter, be grateful he's doing something with his mind. On the former… cringe, a lot." Minxia admitted. "I refuse to raise a boy who can't wash dishes and fold his own laundry."

"I can do both of those things," Thrakos objected, and Ren got the feeling this was an old argument between them. Neither looked truly upset, however.

"Passably." Minxia shook her head as Thrakos sat down next to her, setting their son between them. "We need to work on your pot scrubbing techniques."

"Perhaps we should let you two have this debate in private?" Ren suggested with a gentle but firm note.

"Oh. No, it's all right, Mom." Minxia looked startled. "I'm not even sure why we're discussing this right now."

Thrakos kissed her forehead. "Because we all need sleep."

"All of us." Will agreed, his own jaw cracking as he yawned. They'd all been up most of the night so as not to miss the birth. There was definitely a note of asking in his voice.

Ren reluctantly stood. They did need sleep, and if all went well, Minx and Damien would be released from the hospital by tomorrow morning. "We'll be back in a few hours," she promised, giving her daughter's shoulder a brief squeeze. "Do you want us to bring you anything from your place?" They were staying at the Argyros' family home, but the penthouse wasn't all that far away.

"No, I think we brought everything we needed from home," Minxia replied. "But if it's around dinner time, there's a little Xingese sushi place on the corner, and I have been _dying_ for a good sushi roll for months!"

That elicited a chorus of chuckles. Ren smiled. "We can manage that."

 **January 24th, 1987**

Weekdays in the Fischer townhome were lonely and yet, at the same time, oddly pleasant. It had taken Shelby time to get used to being home by herself all day. Well, by herself if that included Miss Whiskers the cat, and the baby that now squirmed and kicked unignorably in her belly. She had been frustrated and angry when the school administration had very tactfully but firmly _suggested_ that she not return to school after the winter holiday. At least, not until after she had the baby and was able to leave it in someone else's care for a few hours each day.

It didn't seem right, and it was downright embarrassing, to be treated like criminals by the school despite having gotten married, which had always been the plan. She couldn't even say the baby was really an accident, because it wasn't. Still, she had plenty to keep her busy during the day. Each day, Charlie brought home work from their teachers, and Shelby would spend the next day working on it. Then he would take it with him the following day. It was awkward, but it meant she kept up, and that she would not fall nearly a semester behind the rest of the class. That, she would never have forgiven herself for. Up until now, she had maintained a straight A average, and she wasn't about to let it drop now.

Her days were spent working on her assignments, sometimes up in their room at the desk, but often down on the comfortable sofa, where she could stretch out. It was also closer to the kitchen, which meant food was always in easy reach; a blessing and a curse, since it meant she could finally eat as much as she craved. After spending the first several months of her pregnancy trying not to look pregnant _too_ soon, she had eaten normally in public, and made up the necessary difference in small snacks. It was a textbook amount needed, but not at all what her body had asked for, or the baby. It hadn't been so bad, but as she had neared the third trimester, she had gotten more and more hungry, and it had been so difficult not to go back for seconds at school, or in front of her parents. Now the baby, and her body, seemed determined to make up for any missed growth on the baby's part, and she was constantly starving. The doctor had told her that was normal, and as long as what she was eating was healthy-and not junk food- to eat as much as her body craved. Her own metabolism had always been fairly high, so it was unlikely to be a problem.

So that was what she told herself when she woke from her daily afternoon nap and went to the kitchen for a snack. Breakfast had been a stack of waffles, bacon, eggs, and fruit, followed by a midmorning snack in which she had finished off the entire container of blueberries. Lunch had been half of the leftover lasagna in the refrigerator and a salad. That had been followed by an early-afternoon snack of carrot sticks in dressing, two pieces of buttered toast, several pieces of cheese-wrapped-in-ham,, and a cookie.  
Her most recent nightmares mostly consisted of giving birth, only to discover that her stomach would remain that big forever. Stupid in the light of day, and she felt silly and vain for worrying, but a month out from her due date, she really missed being able to look at her own feet.

After a moment, Shelby decided on the leftover dessert from the lunch date she had made with her mother two days ago. Lunch, because her father didn't have to know unless her mother chose to tell him. Since he didn't seem to know that she and her mother had talked on the phone at least twice a week since he kicked her out, she doubted he knew about lunch yet. It was a bizarre situation. Before this last year, Shelby had never been in trouble with her parents. Now, her father wasn't even speaking to her. She had been relieved that her mother had even picked up the phone the first time she called. There had been several difficult, painful conversations, but at least her mother seemed to have forgiven her, if not necessarily Charlie.

It was truly bizarre to be living in Charlie's parents' house. She had been here so many times when she came over to study with Charlie, or just hang out, but living in his room was strange, even though it had been changed up to accommodate them both, and the baby. His bed was up against the wall, and the furniture now made room for a crib. He had taken some of his posters off the wall and put up things he didn't automatically need in boxes in the garage, or up in the attic crawl-space. Things from her room—purloined when she slipped home one day while her parents were at work—now occupied the space as well. Her favorite two pictures from her walls. Her curtains and throw pillows. Her music box. Not a lot of things, but the ones with emotional attachment that made her feel a little more at home, a little less out of place.

She had left most of her clothes. Who knew when or if they would fit again after the baby? There would always be time to collect them later.

Shelby had just settled back down on the couch with her plate of vanilla bean cheesecake when she heard keys in the door. School was over, and that would be Charlie coming home from school. He didn't work at the shop on Wednesday nights, so they would have the evening together.

Charlie smiled as he came into the living room, and dropped his backpack on the floor with a heavy thunk. He took off his coat, hanging it on the rack by the door. "How are you doing, beautiful?"

"Do you want the cute answer, or the long litany of why I'm tired of being pregnant answer?" Shelby asked. She had given up on answers like _Fine_ weeks ago.

"I want a true answer." Charlie crossed the room and sat down next to her, sliding one arm around her shoulders. "Is the cheesecake a good day sign, or a bad day sign?"

"It's an I-am-never-going-to-be-full-again sign," she quipped. "You should be grateful that the preparations for dinner tonight are uneaten and still in the refrigerator."

"I am grateful," Charlie assured her as he kissed her cheek, then placed his left hand on her belly. It was the first thing he did every day when he came home now that the baby was kicking regularly. "Mostly I'm grateful for you."

Under his hand, the baby thumped at him with what Shelby was pretty certain was a foot. She had gotten very good lately at telling which was what, especially now that he or she couldn't roll as much, as the baby was quickly running out of room. Charlie's face lit up, and Shelby's heart melted. "I'm grateful for you, too." She set her plate down next to her, so she could put her hand over his. "How was your day?"

"Oh, the usual." Charlie shrugged. "Understood about half of Algebra. Finished that essay for Amestrian Literature and turned it in. Ducked down a hallway to avoid your father." He smiled. "Marlie and Gill want to come over. I hope you don't mind, but I told them Friday evening would be great. We can order in, watch movies, and just hang out."  
Shelby felt as if the whole room had just lit up. "Oh thank goodness! That sounds wonderful." She felt so out of touch not being at school, not being able to do her part in the government, or run clubs. She had assistants, and she was in contact with them so she could help with decisions, but it wasn't the same. She still talked to Marlie, but only when she could call when her parents weren't home. Thankfully her parents had never found out that she had been one of Shelby and Charlie's witnesses, but that still didn't make them particularly pleased that they were still friends. "Any other news I should know?"

"Well, I've got an entire folder of plans and information from Jessica Smythe that she wants you to look over for the Spring Formal committee. They want your approval before moving forward with the final plan."

Spring Formal, and their junior year. Shelby nodded. "Thank you. I'll look that over tonight so you can take it back tomorrow." She would have to get a new dress than the one she had planned on, but that was all right. At least the baby would be at least two months old by then, so she should be able to leave her or him alone long enough to go enjoy some of the party.

"There were the usual miss yous from our friends, and your friends. I got some weird begrudging respect from the head of the soccer team when I passed him in the lunch room. No idea why, except that Gill says rumor has it he's on the skids with his girlfriend because her parents think he's too dumb for her."

"That's a shame for him." Shelby knew who Charlie was talking about at once. But then, while she wasn't much of a gossip herself, eventually given how many social circles her life overlapped with, she heard almost everything eventually. "Trey's a fairly nice guy."

"As jocks go." Charlie shrugged, but he nodded. "I mean, he's never tried to beat me up in a bathroom, but I don't know either of them all that well." He glanced at her curiously. "Why do you say it's a shame for him?"

"Because he honestly likes her. I can't say I'm all that fond of Penelope. She's been making fat jokes behind my back for the past four months."

"What?" Charlie twitched, and he looked immediately furious. "That bitch! I'll-"

"Do absolutely nothing about it," Shelby replied quickly, and firmly. "She's vain and sometimes shallow, but I don't care. _I_ knew better, and it didn't bother me. She had a very sour look on her face when I didn't get replaced as head of any of my committees, or lose my spot on the government." All things for which she _was_ grateful, given the school's displeasure with the situation. At least on an official level. Her teachers, once they realized that she intended to be her usual, studious self, and that they actually _were_ legally married now, had been more accepting, or at least neutral on the issue. The ones that she had been closest too had been the first to forgive. Those had encouraging notes that came regularly with her work, assuring her that she was keeping up, and praising her efforts to keep up despite not being in the classroom for lectures. While Charlie was not the best note-taker ever, Shelby appreciated that he had redoubled his efforts to write down _every single thing_ a teacher said, and she had actually mentioned that in a letter back to their Amestrian teacher. She wanted them to understand that Charlie didn't deserve a bad reputation for this. He was as considerate and caring and responsible as ever, and even more-so, than he ever had been before.

"She thought she'd get them, did she?" Charlie still look furious, but his muscles stopped clenching so tightly, and his hand relaxed again under hers. "Are you sure I can't at least be snide to her, or something?"

"You stay out of trouble!" Shelby repeated. "That's the last thing you need right now, or me."

He looked immediately contrite. "Right, sorry. Whatever you want. I'll continue ignoring her existence instead."

Shelby smiled, relieved. The last thing either of them needed was him getting in trouble at school. His parents were starting to relax, her mother was accepting the situation, and the school was slowly starting to lose interest in the scandal that wasn't a scandal. After this, they had a full year of high school left. The last thing she wanted was more upheaval. "Thank you. Just wait it out. Besides, they're both graduating this spring, and then they're gone. Now, what educational delights have you brought for me to entertain myself with tomorrow, or that you'd like to work on together tonight?"

Charlie chuckled. "Well, I hope you're feeling particularly scientific this evening, because your first choice is the new science unit in physics, which has a research project."

Which would sound far more interesting when she was awake. "What's my second choice?"

Charlie looked amused. "The next health unit started today… on reproduction."

Shelby almost dropped the cheesecake she was picking up again. "I don't think we really need to worry too much about that one."


	20. Part 2-10 - Fall-Winter '86-'87

**January 5th, 1987**

Urey was not expecting the large, almost extravagant, Friday evening meal spread out when he got home after work at the pharmacy. Yurian was helping Raina set the table by putting out the silverware. The table held a freshly cooked meatloaf, crusty white garlic bread that was also still steaming, and a huge fresh salad tossed in vinaigrette. "To what do I owe this feast?"

"It's Friday," Raina smiled, kissing his cheek as she passed, setting the last plate down on the table. "And I finished all of my grading for the week early, so we have the entire weekend to ourselves!"

"No fighting with little children's intelligible scribbles for your attention?" Urey grinned, and caught her up for a kiss. "I think I like that."

Raina returned it warmly. "I thought you might. We'll save the real celebration for after dinner."

"Oh?"

"Not in front of Yurian," Raina whispered in his ear, then pulled gently out of his arms. "Yurian, will you please feed the kitties before we eat."

"Yes, Mom!" Yurian bounded out of the room and into the kitchen.

"Something you wanted to say that isn't kid appropriate?" Urey asked his wife, now very curious. Normally bedroom talk stayed in the bedroom. Not that he minded being romanced.

"In a way." Raina's giddy expression softened, then she took a breath. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh you...a—re…" That had not been what he was expecting. For a moment, Urey lost the ability to speak, and his mind felt numb. But it lasted only a moment, and when he shook himself back to sensibility, Raina was still looking at him, waiting for him to respond. "Wow."

"Surprise," she smiled, looking a little uneasy.

"I'll say." Urey smiled back, and hugged her again. "How long have you known?"

"I dropped by the doctor's office on my way home."

So at least she had told him as soon as she could. That was good. That meant things were early, plenty of time. "And when are we due?" He tried to run the mental math, but he was coming up with sometime around the beginning of September.

"July. Possibly the end of June."

"What? How?"

She blushed. "That's the real surprise. It looks like we're already near the end of the first trimester."

Urey wasn't sure what to say to that, since what, how, and wow had already been uttered. "But you don't look it. I mean you haven't been sick or anything!" His memories of pregnancy were nausea, constant illness, and taking care of a sick woman.

"I'm as surprised as you are," she reminded him, a little more gently. "It's just been such a busy semester; I didn't notice my cycle was off. I just thought I was tired from lack of sleep. I haven't been sick at all." She shrugged. "At least it means I don't have to berate myself for putting on weight."

"No, no you don't." Urey felt the first inklings of joy starting to surface, past the difficult memories, past the horrible trauma of Yurian's birth, and Cayla's death. "Though I didn't notice you had," he admitted.

"Lucky me." Raina's head cocked slightly. "You look worried."

"I am. I mean… I'm happy," Urey corrected. "I'm just a little anxious. The last time I did this didn't end the way I had hoped."

"I know. That's why I was a little worried about how to tell you." Raina's expression softened. "But we're already past the early weeks, and Doctor Gaines says everything looks great, so I'm fine, the baby's fine, and in a few months, our family will be one more amazing little person bigger."

He felt reassured to know that they were both fine. While, intellectually, he knew that Raina was much more robust and healthy than Cayla had ever been, that didn't make his insides any calmer. It would take time. "Does Yurian know?"

"No. I didn't want to tell him before you. I thought we could decide the best time to tell him together."

That was good. "No reason we can't do it tonight, I guess," he replied. If the first trimester was already almost over, than there really wasn't a reason to wait to tell the important people, especially Yurian, who would be getting a little brother or sister before summer's end. "Though if we do, he's never going to let us sleep."

"Oh he will," Raina assured him with a firm tone. "Because Mommy is very tired, and really wants a back rub before passing out tonight."

Urey couldn't help chuckling. "If that's what Mommy wants, that's what Mommy gets." That, and a whole lot more. He wasn't really surprised that she had gotten pregnant, just the timing, which had clearly caught her off guard as well. "Shall we eat?"

"Yes, please. It's taken all my self-control to wait for you before eating that meatloaf." There was a mild note of desperation in there.

Urey's heart melted. "Then by all means, let's eat! I can't let my family starve."

"Kittens are fed!" Yurian announced as he bounded back into the kitchen. "I'm hungry! Is it time for dinner yet?"

Urey exchanged an amused look with Raina who smiled. "Yes, it is. But first, we have a little surprise for you."

Yurian became still, and looked at her curiously. "Oh, what is it?"

 **January 13th, 1987**

It was extremely rare these days for Franz to have any time that wasn't involved in work. Being the President of the military, even in times of relative peace, meant a lot of meetings, and a lot of decisions about how to keep everyone prepared for anything, because if there was anything life had taught him, peace didn't last forever.

Yet for the moment, everything seemed to be running with minimal problems. The State Alchemy program was larger than ever, especially with more alchemists being used in non-combat capacities: research, medical, and even in the engineering corps. Those with more specific skills who weren't alchemical combatants still had plenty to offer the state. Under experienced leadership, it was going well. The rest of the military was its usual level of chaos. Without the Syndicate causing internal terrorist issues, and an outer war to worry about, things were quiet.

So Franz had not had a reason-nor did he want one-to turn down the dinner offer to join Trisha and Roy at Maes and Elena's house for a big Mustang-family get together. They had assured him, repeatedly, that Roy's parents had made certain that they would extend the invitation.

An all-family dinner, he discovered quickly, was exactly what it meant. When he arrived, it was into the middle of controlled chaos. Trisha and Roy had beaten him there, and Rosa and Gabriel were playing a board-game in the living room with their Aunt Mireia, Maes and Elena's fourteen-year-old daughter. Trisha and Thea were sitting on the couch talking, while little Sara, who was almost two, sat on the floor playing with the little fluffy black Aerugean water dog the Mustangs had bought a few months ago. Thea was holding her sleeping son, Rios, who was just three months old. Elena and Rochelle seemed to be deep in discussion.

Franz made his way into the kitchen. "I thought I'd find you here," he chuckled. Maes, Roy, Riza, and Nik and Nathan—Roy's brother-in-law and soon-to-be brother-in-law—were sitting around the breakfast table.

"We're hiding from the overwhelming baby and wedding talk," Roy chuckled, offering him a bottle of Aerugean beer. "Have a seat."

That explained it. Franz took a seat between Riza and his son-in-law and accepted the bottle. "And here I thought those were the two most popular topics in this family."

"Not today." Nik chuckled, giving Nathan a slap on the shoulder. Nathan and Rochelle's wedding was in a few short months, Franz recalled, trying to remember all of the family gossip he got occasionally from Trisha and Roy. "Not to be stereotypical, but for the next hour until dinner, we declared this the man zone."

Franz glanced at Riza, who smiled and sipped from her cup of coffee. "You were okay with this name?"

She shrugged. "I refused to move."

"Grandma shoots better than all of us combined," Roy chuckled. "She can sit wherever she wants."

"I never argue with my mother," Maes commented glibly, which earned him a look from Riza.

"I've never seen another person take down a mankiller like her," Nik nodded. Even after all the years that had passed since the Mustang family and Nikolaos had battled for their lives together in the Aerugean wilderness, there was a distinct note of awe and respect in his tone.

"I'm starting to feel left out," Nathan commented. "Am I the only one whose life she hasn't saved?"

Franz smiled. "Well, technically I haven't had the pleasure of having her shoot someone or something on my behalf."

"I still owe you an unrepayable debt as I recall." Riza set down her mug on the table. "For bringing back all that was left of Roy to me."

Nik and Nathan both looked interested. "I haven't heard this story," Nathan said.

Nik shook his head. "Me neither."

Roy just kicked back and took a drink. Franz knew his son-in-law knew the story of how Franz had followed the Flame Alchemist into combat in the last, final push of the Drachman War. A move that had, in the end, brought victory and peace to Amestris once more.

"Do you want to tell it?" Franz asked Riza. He never really liked bragging on himself, and he honestly hadn't ever felt that what he had done was any more courageous than what any other soldier had done. He'd backed up his superior officer, than hid in a pond with that officer's personal effects after he died, and tried not to burn up.

"I'll start, but you have to tell your part of it," Riza insisted. "I wasn't there, so I can only tell them what we saw from the ridge."

"All right." He could tell from the curious expressions that he wasn't going to get out of it now. That was all right. It had been a while since he'd gotten to tell a story to a new audience.

* * *

Trisha had always been very appreciative of how welcome and appreciated she had always been in Roy's family. Not that she had really ever been _not_ close with them, given she and Roy had been good friends, and she had been friends with his sisters for almost their entire lives. Still, many of her friends had horror stories about marrying into families where there was conflict and internal politics. While every family had problems, Trisha felt very lucky to be part of this one.

"I'm glad you're getting sleep," she commented in reply to Thea's last statement. "It was six months before Rosa let us sleep through the night, and almost the same with Gabe."

"And Sara?" Thea asked with a smile. She looked tired, but not exhausted, and Trisha only wished she'd managed to look that carelessly fashionable three months after having any of her children. But then, that was Thea and her preferences in fashion.

Trisha chuckled. "Surprisingly, only four. Right now, she's the early riser in the family." A fact that didn't make anyone else particularly happy, particularly on weekends.  
Thea grinned. "I imagine that doesn't go over well with my brother. He always was a grumpy morning person."

"It's not so bad. Though he did almost burn half a pan of bacon last week and without alchemy too." He had been up half the night with the fussy toddler, and had been far too tired to be frying food.

That elicited a chorus of laughter that included Mireia, Rochelle, and Elena.

"Poor Roy." Rochelle looked up from the seating charts she and her mother were planning. "I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't get my sleep every night."

"Oh, you'll find out eventually," Thea smiled wickedly at her younger sister. "Unless you and Nathan aren't planning on having children."

"Eventually," the actress smiled, but she shrugged casually. "But it'll have to be when I don't have a project, and right now I've got a three-season contract for _Everwaking Dreams_."

Trisha hadn't seen much of the show, given it was a daytime drama and she was always at work, but it was well acted. She could see how that might be an issue. If an actress got pregnant, it either meant very creative working around it for the season, or working it into the plot.

"The right time is different for everyone," Elena commented, breaking in before her daughters could devolve into what Trisha knew was a long-standing, if relatively friendly, disagreement.

"I'd rather have a horse than kids," Mireia commented as her piece hopped four spaces down the board on the game.

"Horses are less expensive, and they don't argue nearly as much," Elena nodded as if this was the most reasonable thing she'd ever heard. "Especially if you have daughters."

"Mom!" Rochelle stared at her, then laughed when she realized her mother was teasing them all. "Well, whenever that happens, we've got to get married first."

"Are you taking Nathan's last name?" Trisha asked curiously.

"Yes, legally," Rochelle nodded, "But not professionally. My career is tied to people knowing my name. Now that I'm starting to get more parts and attention, I can't really go changing it now. Besides, it will make things a little more private if no one can find any information about me based on my last name. Outside of what they already know about our very well-known family."

"You can blame Grandpa Roy for that." Thea smiled. "He just _had_ to be memorable."

"What are we blaming my Roy for?" Riza appeared in the doorway.

Trisha grinned. "Being famous and memorable."

Riza nodded. "Well, he certainly was both of those things." She looked like she wanted to say more, but then she glanced at the younger children in the room, and her mouth closed for a moment. "I would have said he was trouble. In any case, the food's ready to come out of the oven, Elena."

"Wonderful." Elena stood and put the seating chart back in the sacred folder of wedding plans. "Let's eat!"

 **January 27th, 1987**

Saturday nights in the Closson household always seemed to either be utterly chaotic, or very quiet, with little in between, in Tore's experience. Tonight had been, so far, one of the enjoyably quiet ones, though that may have had to do with the fresh layer of snow, still falling outside, and the fact that he wasn't taking either of his at-home children anywhere important. Camelia did not yet have an exhaustive social or school calendar, and she spent most of her time at her best friend's house across the street on Saturdays when they didn't have family obligations. This late in the evening, she was up in her room, listening to the radio and working on an art project.

Brandon's sports were over until spring. They spent the winter quarter training in the school gym to keep in shape, but that was it. The play was over, and he hadn't auditioned for anything else, so he got his homework done sooner. He also spent a lot more time with Julia now that they were more than just friends. Tore hadn't pressed the conversation, but he knew that Brandon was now dating his long-term crush, and he was happy for his son. Jean seemed amused by the not-entirely-unexpected turn of events as well, now that his daughter was no longer daydreaming about Dare dumping Lorraine for her.

That was where Brandon was now, out with Julia. Dinner and ice skating at the rink that went up in the park near downtown once it got cold enough. With all this snow, it sounded awfully romantic. Tore had already briefly contemplated seeing if Charisa wanted to go sometime, but on another night, when they wouldn't embarrass their son on his date.

Charisa was upstairs. He thought she was on the phone with a lobbyist, but by now she might be done, because he had also heard the bathwater running. If he knew his wife that was going to be a nice long soak in her favorite bubble bath. The one that smelled really good and always made him want to jump her afterwards.

He had no objections to this.

Tore, for his part, was enjoying an evening in front of an old movie on the television, with the orange cat sprawled on his lap, purring hard, and a cup of gourmet Aerugean coffee with cream, and a little sugar.

It was just after nine-thirty when the front door opened and Brandon entered, his hat and coat covered in a light dusting of white, his face flushed pink from the cold. Despite this, he was grinning. "Oh, hey Dad," he said as he took off his hat, scarf, and coat and hung them up. Then he removed his shoes leaving them by the door.

"Hey yourself," Tore nudged the cat off his lap so he could stand and lower the volume on the television. "How was skating?"

"Great!" Brandon came into the room, rubbing his arms, even in a long sleeve flannel shirt. "Got anything hot?"

"Coffee, which you don't need." Tore turned down the nob on the television. "Though we could heat up water for chocolate or tea or something."

"Chocolate." Brandon nodded, still grinning.

Tore went into the kitchen, pondering his son's peppiness. "Did you make sure Julia got home?" he asked as he put on the kettle.

"Of course I did," Brandon sounded slightly offended. "I walked her home."

"That's good of you."

"Well what else would I do?"

Tore smiled. "Oh, I don't know, get home on time?"

A moment's silence. "What time is it?"

"Half-past nine."

"Crap!"

"Don't let your mother hear that." Tore turned around. Brandon was still standing in the kitchen doorway, looking a little surprised. "You have a watch. Didn't you look at the time?"

"It was under my gloves," Brandon admitted, looking embarrassed.

He couldn't resist. Tore chuckled. "More like you were distracted."

While he was ready for a stammered objection, Tore was surprised by the abashed grin and the shrug and the "Well, yeah," that came out of his younger son's mouth.  
He knew that look. Tore had seen it on dozens of guys in his youth. He turned to pull a mug out of the cupboard. The last thing he could do was just ask his son to spill it. That wasn't how parenting worked, not if he wanted to keep his son's trust and not embarrass him, but Tore would bet a week's pay his son and Julia had kissed tonight. "Must have been some great skating."

"The best."

* * *

After cocoa and a long, hot shower, Brandon sprawled on his bed, his hands flipping absent mindedly through a book, but his eyes and his mind were anywhere else. He gazed through the pages, remembering only Julia's face, her hair, framed with the reflecting dazzle of lamp-lit snowflakes sprinkled in her hair, and the sweet taste of her lips as he kissed her for the first time.

He'd kissed her. Even now, almost two hours later, he was having trouble wrapping his mind around it as more than a fantasy or daydream. But it had definitely happened. The date had gone just as he had expected for most of the afternoon and evening. They had gone for an early dinner at the Aerugean place near the park. They both liked Aerugean tacos, and so it had been a nice, hot meal to start off the evening with. Brandon also liked them because he could order a lot of them cheap. Even though sports season was over, he was still going through some kind of growth spurt, and getting enough to be full was a challenge most days.

Afterwards they had gone over and rented skates. This winter had been particularly snowy, and it was just all the more magical that, as the sun set, they were graced with a new, gentle fall of big fat flakes. While neither one of them were champion skaters, they were—Brandon thought— pretty decent. They had spent most of the evening skating together, sometimes holding hands, and otherwise just enjoying the weather. Neither of them had fallen over or run into anyone.

The kiss had come while they were walking home afterwards; exhausted, exhilarated, they had paused for a moment under a streetlamp near the edge of the park. Nothing was visible in the distance through the swirling snow, except the vague impression of trees, and the white-dark of winter. Their eyes had met, and he had simply moved. Or she had moved. Maybe they both had, but suddenly their lips met, and they were kissing in the snow.

It had lasted only a few seconds, but it had felt like a lot longer. After, they had both smiled, laughed a little, and agreed that that was definitely something to do again.  
Unfortunately it had been late, and he had to make sure she got home before he did. In the snow, he hadn't wanted her to get lost, or too cold. So even though it was a little out of his way, he made sure to walk her all the way home. Well, the stretch between the nearest bus stop and their houses. It had still been a cold, slow slog in the deepening snow!

While his father hadn't asked for details, Brandon had a sneaking suspicion that his father suspected something. Or at least, he had figured out that Brandon and Julia were dating. That didn't bother Brandon. His parents were very smart people, so if they hadn't figured it out by now, especially after they had gone to the winter dance together, and danced at Dare's wedding a couple of times, well, he would have been perplexed. Still, he was glad his father hadn't pushed for details. Brandon was still sorting it all out in his brain, and he wanted to keep that moment to himself, between the two of them, for a little while longer.

 **February 2nd, 1987**

Ted didn't really mind being used as a messenger boy. Especially not when the message was classified information going from the State Alchemy's main office to the Head of Operations of the alchemical division of Lab Two. He didn't know what was in the envelope exactly, but that was rather the point.

Still, he was grateful his military coat was thick, warm wool because he was thoroughly chilled by the time he showed his watch at the gates and was let into the compound around the Laboratory. It only took a few minutes to get through the second security check and then he was free to make his way through the hallways and stairs up to the third floor, where he got to spend fifteen minutes cooling his heels waiting for the Head of Operations to see him, since the orders were that it went into no one else's hands, not even a secretary.

At least the secretary understood. She was friendly, about his age, and a cute brunette, so it wasn't all bad. "Here, hon, have a cup of coffee," she offered after a few minutes. She had gotten one for herself already and seemed to take pity on him.

"Thank you, Jeanne," Ted smiled as he took the cup and blew on it before sipping. Apparently the Labs got a slightly higher quality of sludge than they did at Headquarters. He was going to have to complain about that to someone. "I like what you've done with your hair." The last time he had come in, it had been past her shoulders, now it was up around her ears and curled.

"Oh, thank you," she smiled at him, startled, probably that he remembered. It had been over a month since the last time he had made a delivery. "I wanted to try something different."

"It suits you. It's very sophisticated."

The office door opened. "Elric!" the Head of Operations barked.

Ted flashed her a smile as he stood, setting the coffee down, and went into the office.

The Head of Operations, Colonel Willis, was a tall, broad man, balding up top, but had clearly once been a fighter. "Got another one for me, Proteus?"

Ted nodded and pulled the thick envelope out of his coat. "From the main office, Sir." He handed it over, then stood and waited.

Willis took the envelope, opened it, and started reading.

Ted had gotten very good at learning how to wait patiently. Or at least look like he was waiting patiently. After Shock and Whitewater had gotten onto him several times about complaints they had gotten about his impatience and apparent lack of respect for authority, he had schooled himself to be better at standing still with a waiting-for-orders expression.

Fifteen minutes later, Willis put the pages down, nodded, and scribbled a quick note, which he put in a similar envelope, and sealed. "Take this."

Ted slipped it right into his coat without so much as a glance at the envelope. "Yes, Sir."

Willis nodded. "Dismissed."

That was that. Ted came back out, and found that his cup of coffee, though now cooled, was still waiting. Jeanne was on the phone, and waved briefly at him as he picked up his cup and left.

He was just coming out on the bottom floor when a flash of a familiar profile caught his eye. At least, he thought he recognized her. Ted shook his head. No, that wasn't possible. Still, he couldn't help turning around.

Walking away from him was a long, pale-blond ponytail and a figure that, even in a lab coat, looked familiar. The walk, the way she moved. She paused to talk to someone in the hallway, and turned, and he saw her profile again.

Ted's heart almost stopped. His feet moved of their own accord, and by the time the man she was talking to walked away, he was within hearing range. "Clarina?"

She turned, and stopped, eyes widening as she recognized him. Then she straightened herself and the papers in her arms. At the edge of a glove, he caught a glint of auto-mail. "Hello, Proteus."

Not even a first name. "I didn't know you worked here." It seemed a safe enough comment.

Clarina nodded. "Yes. I've been working for the lab for a while now. I decided I didn't want to join another combat unit. They agreed my talents were better suited elsewhere."  
They. A while. Ted's stomach sank. What did Closson and Fischer know about this? "That's great," he smiled. "I'm glad you're doing better."

"I hear you've made quite the name for yourself."

From her tone, he couldn't tell if that was a compliment or not. When they had worked together, she had never been so guarded. "I do my best," he replied, with a bit of a shrug. "But I've worked really hard to improve over the last couple of years."

Still no clue what she was thinking. "Have you talked to Vera?"

"I gave up trying," Ted admitted. "I got tired of her hanging up on my calls and actively avoiding me. I know when I'm not wanted. Have you?" It hadn't occurred to him that she might have stayed in contact with their other former teammate.

"We've talked." Clarina nodded. "She left, you know."

Ted nodded. He had heard that much. "I remember."

"Well, she's working in a little town west of West City now, near the Cretan border. A cousin of hers gave her a job managing a restaurant he owns near the train station."  
Restaurant management? Ted tried to wrap his mind around that. "I hope she's happy."

"Last I heard, she had a new boyfriend and she seemed to like the job." Clarina shifted the papers in her hands. "Not sure it's anything serious, but I'm glad she's moving on."

"And you?" Ted regretted the words the moment he blurted them out. He wasn't even sure where they had come from.

Clarina looked contemplative for a moment before she apparently decided to take it as a general question. "I like working here," she replied. "It's nice not to worry about getting blown up every other day, and my arm doesn't hurt anymore, except when it's raining, or cold. Your brother and his wife do great work." Then she sighed. "Look, I need to get back to my lab. We have an experiment we're running in just a few minutes."

"I—right — sorry. I didn't mean to get in the way." Ted nodded his head respectfully. "I'm just glad to see you're doing well."

"Thank you. You too." Clarina paused awkwardly, then turned to go without another word.

Ted watched her go until she vanished around the corner. Then he turned, and continued towards the exit before he did something impulsive or dumb. It was very clear now that she was not interested in renewing their friendship, let alone any kind of regular contact. She hadn't asked after his personal life. She hadn't checked on his number, or given him hers. Heck, she hadn't ever even told him she had come back into military service.

Yet it didn't hurt the way he expected it too. Sure, it stung a little, but he was more bothered by the fact that his superiors—the ones who were also relatives, of a sort—hadn't mentioned it, probably on purpose.

That ship had sailed, and he wasn't ever going to be able to catch it, or repair the damage done there. At least, he had learned to live with it.

 **February 12th, 1987**

Charlie was beginning to feel like the school day would never end. When he had left the house that morning, Shelby had been antsy, tired, and generally irritable. Neither of them had slept well in days, since she had been having contractions on and off all week. Never consistent. They never stayed. This was normal, everyone said. Practice contractions. It could still be days, maybe even a week, before she went into active labor.

Which only meant focusing on anything in his classes was nearly impossible. He wasn't focused. He could barely stay awake. And the math lecture going on at the front of the room was never going to hold his attention.

"Mr. Venn," the office secretary's voice came over the classroom loudspeaker. "Please send Mr. Closson to the office."

The teacher glanced at him, nodded when Charlie nodded that he had heard, and went right back to teaching.

Charlie grabbed his bag and took it with him, wondering why he was being called into the office this time. It had happened repeatedly in the past couple of months. Usually it had something to do with the plan regarding Shelby and school. At least, he hadn't gotten in trouble recently, so he didn't think he was in trouble now.

"You asked to see me, ma'am?" he said to the Secretary, Mrs. Robstein, as he entered the office.

She looked up, and looked oddly relieved to see him. "Yes. You have a call."

A phone call? Charlie's stomached dropped. Only one person would call him in the middle of class. "Where should I take it?"

"I'll transfer it to the phone in the copy room." She motioned towards the open door to the right.

Charlie nodded, and ducked in, then picked up the receiver. "Shelby?"

"Hi, Charlie."

"Is something wrong?" He couldn't imagine she would have called him for anything less than an emergency. Though it could be something as inane as having a question for a teacher she needed him to pass along that she had forgotten.

"The baby's coming."

"You're sure?"

"Charlie." Now she sounded slightly exasperated, but there was a definite note of fear in her voice. "My water broke."

"Shit." Charlie managed not to drop the phone. "I'm on my way home. Just...stay put."

"What else can I do?" she retorted.

"Just hold on. I'm coming. I love you." He hung up the phone and stepped back into the main office. "I need to go."

He had never been so grateful for Mrs. Robstein as that moment when she tapped the sign-out form with her finger. "I've already filled it out. Get going."

"Yes ma'am."

For the past couple of weeks, Charlie had stopped riding the bus, and his parents had been letting him drive the old family car to school, for just this reason. Charlie just wished the baby hadn't picked _today_ of all days to come! His mother had been invited out to a wedding planner's convention and show and had gone with friends. His father had several important meetings all day at Headquarters. He had no idea if they would be able to reach either one of them.

Charlie wasn't cognizant of most of the drive home. His brain kept swapping between telling himself not to panic, and thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong. The baby was coming. _Their_ baby was coming. He had to get home.

Shelby was waiting for him when he came through the door. "Are you all right?" he asked, reaching out for her, his hands gently clutching her upper arms.

She had her hospital bag ready. "Contractions are four minutes apart, and they haven't stopped. I called the doctor, and they're waiting for us at the hospital."

"Do I need to call anyone when we get there?" Charlie asked.

Shelby shook her head. "I left a message with your father's office, and at my parents'. There's a good chance Daddy already knows if he knows you've left school."

"Okay, good." Charlie grabbed her coat and put it around her, helping her into it before he grabbed her bag. "The roads aren't bad right now. Let's get you to the hospital."  
Another drive he would never remember afterwards later, Charlie had pulled up and parked just outside the hospital doors. He had just helped Shelby in the door when an orderly came up with a wheelchair, looking calm and expectant. "They're waiting for you upstairs," he smiled.

Charlie helped Shelby into the chair. She had just settled into place as another contraction hit. Or so he assumed by the way her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip. He squeezed her hand. "Easy, now. We're here. Everything will be fine."

Shelby nodded, though she didn't speak for several seconds. Finally, she sighed. "I know."

Charlie followed the orderly and Shelby into the elevator, which took them to the maternity floor. Even though they had done a visit and pre-delivery paperwork last week, it felt strange to be up here as the father-to-be instead of visiting a family member.

There was a room waiting for Shelby, and soon enough they had her lying in the bed, and a monitor hooked up to check on the baby. Then they had to wait. "How are you feeling?" Charlie asked, trying to ignore the knots forming in his stomach and intestines. He had to remain calm. "Can I get you anything?"

Shelby shook her head. "I'm… fine, Charlie."

"Okay." He wasn't sure what else to say. With each contraction, she was distracted and focused, and he didn't want to be a hindrance. She had read the books, and taken the class, and was very focused on what was happening. That was what she did when things were hard, she got extremely focused. So he let her, and held her hand, and waited.

Doctor Emily Waterson finally arrived, smiling and looking as calm as if she did this every day. Of course, Charlie realized, she _did_ do this on a regular basis. Delivering babies was her job. He sat by while Dr. Waterson talked to Shelby and did an examination, checked vitals, looked at the monitors, and wrote several things down on a chart. "Everything looks good," she said when she was done. "If you find lying down uncomfortable, get up and walk around, all right? Your contractions are still about four minutes apart, but you're dilating nicely."

When the doctor left them alone again, Charlie wasn't really sure what to do with himself. He held Shelby's hand, but she wasn't really interested in small talk, even though she smiled at him once or twice between contractions. It seemed forced. Then at other times, she wanted to chat about inconsequential things-at least to him- like their schoolwork. He humored her. He wasn't the one in labor after all.

It was two hours later when a nurse announced the arrival of family, and Charlie had never been more relieved to see his mother enter the room. "Mom! How did you get here?"

"Your father is outside," she informed him with a smile. "He got Shelby's message and came and got me."

"I'm so glad you're here." Charlie felt a weight lift off his shoulders, even as he felt guilty for it. There was another adult here who knew what the heck to do. His mother had done this twice. Charlie had a feeling he hadn't thanked her nearly enough for going through all of this for him. Now, everything would be easier.

* * *

Everything was not easier, Charlie thought to himself four hours later as he tried not to lose what was left of that day's lunch. He had known, academically, what to expect, but now he wasn't sure how much more he could handle. Shelby was in pain, and the fluids…. He hadn't really been ready for the fluids. He felt nauseously green, as well as inexperienced. _This was a really, really bad idea,_ he thought, and laughed cruelly at his own thoughts. Where had that thought been nine months ago when he thought that getting married behind his parents backs was a brilliant plan? _If we get through this, I swear I will never be irresponsible or immature ever again._

Nothing was wrong, per say, at least not if he asked the doctors, his mother, or even Shelby, who had told him more than once that she had expected the pain, and that it was normal, and that she was fine.

So he did what he could, which seemed nowhere near enough. He fed her ice chips. He wiped sweat from her forehead and neck with a cool, damp cloth. He let her squeeze his hand until it had deep nail cuts in it that looked like they might never go away.

When her gown rose up over her belly he reached out to pull it down and maintain her dignity...and got his hand covered in amniotic fluid. _Oh shit...I'm gonna hurl._ "Excuse me." he said with surprising calm as he stood.

His mother just nodded. "Go wash."

He nodded back, and left the room to go down the hall to the washroom.

In the bathroom, he vomited up his lunch, breakfast, and possibly dinner from the night before. He wasn't sure, but he did know that when he was done, there was no food left in his system. _I have no idea how women do this._ He wasn't even sure how doctors did this. He'd always considered himself to have a pretty strong stomach. Now, he felt like a wuss.

"Feel better?" his father commented as Charlie came back out into the hall.

Charlie paused, startled. He hadn't even seen his father on his rush into the restroom. His face flushed with embarrassment. "What do you mean?" he asked defensively.

His father smiled, utterly unfazed. "Don't play coy with me, son. There is nothing more unsettling than watching your wife give birth. Except maybe looking at the missing stump of your own amputated leg," he added.

Charlie's stomach lurched. "I don't...need that image."

"Sorry." His father put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm just saying, queasy is nothing to be ashamed of."

Charlie nodded. He understood. After a moment, he swallowed, and he was fairly certain he wasn't going to have to run back into the restroom. "I'm sorry, Dad," he blurted out.

"I am so, so sorry for everything I've ever done that make things hard for you and Mom."

"Thank you." His father pat his shoulder, then removed his hand. "You're about to learn for yourself, why your mother and I already forgave you. Now go," he nodded towards the maternity wing door. "Shelby needs you."

* * *

There was crying. Somewhere in his mind, Charlie realized it wasn't him, and while Shelby had tears streaming down her face, the noise didn't come from her either. Despite her hair plastered to her head, and the exhaustion in her face, and hours of agony, Shelby was smiling.

The crying was coming from the baby in Doctor Waterson's hands. A pink, screaming thing that wailed like the world was ending, all because her world had started.  
Even Charlie, exhausted and bleary as he was, could tell from the short distance of the length of a bed, that their baby was a girl. "We have a daughter," he gasped the obvious. "Shels… you did it." He bent over and kissed her cheek.

She nodded, but her eyes were riveted on the baby. "Abigail." She spoke only the name they had agreed on if they had a girl. Charlie had told Shelby she could name their baby anything she wanted, because she was better at naming things than he was anyway. Abigail had been her first pick for a girl, and he liked it. Abigail Fischer. It sounded nice, like a beautiful girl that would be as amazing as her mother.

 _Shit… I'm a father._ That was his baby. The baby he and Shelby had made, with their secret passionate evenings above the garage. That Shelby had carried around for all these months. Now little Abigail was here, and he felt an immense swell of love, and pride, and a moment of utter terror. This little life was their responsibility. His to protect, and take care of, and raise into a young woman who would probably end up falling for some guy as stupid as he was. _Don't date, little Abby . Please, don't ever date._

* * *

Cal wished there had been more he could do for his son, but even if Charlie had been eighteen, Cal was past the point in life where he would have handed him a cigarette-not that he had any- or a drink. Also not something he carried around on him these days. The best he had been able to do was offer his son hospital coffee, which he had willingly drained three cups of after the baby and Shelby had been cleaned up, the bedding cleared, and the whole family moved out of the labor room into recovery.

Only after the baby had been measured and evaluated, then swaddled and given back to her parents, did the calm of new-family settle on the room. It was a feeling Cal remembered well, from a snowy night almost twenty years ago, when he and Alyse had welcomed Gloria into the world; their little holiday miracle.

Now Charlie was getting to experience that first hand, and however they had gotten to this moment, Cal hoped that it would be one of the happiest moments of his son's life.  
Charlie was certainly enthralled by his new baby daughter, as he sat with Shelby, watching Abigail sleep. The two, for a few moments, were blissfully unconnected to the rest of the world outside. It was just the three of them, a new little family.

Cal let them be, going back out into the waiting room, where Alyse was standing, looking tired and drinking her own coffee. "I got through to Pauline," she said, referring to Shelby's mother. "She said that they'll be over in the morning."

"She didn't want to see her own daughter?" Cal felt himself getting angry.

Alyse frowned. "Could you not jump to conclusions, for just a moment? It's snowing again, and now that the sun's gone down, the roads are terrible. Tim's home, but it's not safe for them to come out, so they'll make it over tomorrow after the sun comes up."

Cal let his anger go, though it took conscious effort. Of course. That made perfect sense. "If the roads are that bad, how are we getting home?"

Alyse shrugged, and offered him a tired smile. "Unless you want to sleep in these chairs, I suggest the bus. Last I heard, they're still running."

The bus. Well, it was slow enough, and more reliable, than sliding on home in the sports car. Cal nodded. "Will Charlie and Shelby be all right if we go home?"

"I already asked them," Alyse admitted. "Earlier, when you were getting the coffee. They'd like to have tonight to themselves, to adjust."

Something he couldn't blame them for in the slightest. This was a huge life adjustment. He just hoped they were up to the task, because now they had their own little princess to protect. "Then let's go home and make sure the house is ready," he smiled. It wasn't quite midnight yet, but it was getting close. "It's not going to be quiet again for a long time."

* * *

 _Author's Note 6/21/2017: A nice long chapter to keep things moving! I admit, I played around with naming this story something more flippantly related to the sheer number of new children that show up in it, but went with the more metaphorically related one. With a family this big and now multi-generational, it just seems to be constantly expanding! Wanted to post this one early because I have a family vacation next week and didn't want to leave folks hanging. Enjoy!_


	21. Part 3-1 - Summer '87

**June 8th, 1987**

Ian watched the actors in front of him with an intense concentration. _Three...two...one…_ "And cut."

Stella and Carlos stopped gazing into each other eyes, and stepped apart, no longer desperately angsty teen loves, but once again the professional actors that were seeing other people. They stood expectantly, waiting for his word.

Ian smiled. "That's a wrap. Nice work."

The two teens grinned and moved off-set towards wardrobe. The rest of the crew went back to their jobs, finishing up after a long day of filming yet another episode. Season two was definitely heating up.

Ian was feeling good about this particular episode arc, which he was directing the entirety of, given how pleased Tanner had been with his assistance last season. He was grateful that he had been given the opportunity to direct. It was satisfying, challenging work that also kept him in Central far more often.

Today he didn't have any projects of his own to shoot, so he was done for the day as well. The Elrics film had wrapped up months ago and now it was in that stretch of interminable waiting between filming and release consisting of all post-production work. Ian was looking forward to it coming out in the fall. He was fairly certain it would be a big hit. If it was, it was the type of film that could boost his career to the next level. It would be nice to have his pick of roles, and higher paying offers. They would also take him seriously for roles that didn't involve him half-naked.

Ian had been standing in his trailer for several seconds before he realized he wasn't alone. There was someone in the doorway behind him. He sighed, hoping it wasn't going to be complicated. "Who's th—"

He stopped as he turned around, and his concern was replaced by elation.

Bonnie stood in the doorway, still in traveling clothes. She had spent the last three weeks in West City, costuming another movie. Three very long, lonely, dateless weeks. She was smiling at him. "If you're going to gaze at me like that, maybe I should go away more often."

"No! No, I'd really rather you didn't." Ian chuckled, and crossed the short distance between them to gather her in his arms. She wrapped hers around his neck, and kissed him, long and slow. Ian returned it with all the pent up feelings of loneliness and missing her that had filled him while she was gone, which had no room in him with the heat he felt in her presence. "I have missed you _so_ much."

Bonnie smiled, and stayed against him for several more seconds before loosening her grip on his neck. "I missed you too. Are you done for the day?"

Ian nodded. "I'm all yours. Can I treat you to dinner?" She looked like she had come right from the train, so he doubted she had eaten anything recently.

"Dinner sounds great," she nodded. "Can we swing by my apartment first? I'd like to take a quick shower and change into something more appropriate."

While Ian would have said anything was fine, and he knew she wasn't vain enough to think that this required formal date attire, he knew the shower was the critical thing. "Of course," he agreed. "I'll drive you home." He gestured to the door, and they left together. This was perfect, given he also had something he wanted to discuss with her.

The stop at her apartment didn't take long. Ian waited patiently in her living room while she showered, and changed into a casual, comfortable summer dress of light blue that he hadn't seen before. It had a very classic line, very 1940s, with a collared v-neck, and a cloth matching belt at the waist. On Bonnie, it was very flattering.

"You look amazing," he grinned, standing up from the couch as she entered the room. _What I wouldn't give to get it off of you._ "Where would you like to go to dinner?"

"Well I'm pretty tapped out on Cretan and western Amestrian home-cooking," Bonnie smiled. "How about Xingese?"

Ironically appropriate. Ian nodded. "You know me, I'm always up for Xingese."

By the time they were sitting at his favorite table at their favorite restaurant, he had already filled her in on filming for the past three weeks, and she had already told him most of the interesting stories about West City. "My parents say hello," she added at the end, as she fiddled with the straw in her glass. "I had dinner with them last week."

"And how are they?" he asked as he picked up an eggroll.

"Doing well. The farm is the same as ever."

"And your sister?"

Bonnie chuckled. "Seventeen and endlessly busy. Though you'll be interested to know that June has a boyfriend now, and he doesn't look a thing like you."

"So ends the teen crush," Ian pressed his hand dramatically to his chest.

"I can see you're heartbroken."

"Completely." Ian nodded. "Have you heard anything from your brother?" He had only met Jerry once, mostly because he had moved down near South City before he had first visited her family, and had only been home once at a time when Ian and Bonnie had been there.

"Jerry and Nicole are doing great." Bonnie picked up a piece of sushi with her chopsticks. "They've had a very good crop of calves this year on the ranch."

"And theirs?" The last Ian had heard, Jerry and his wife were expecting their first baby. He knew they'd had a girl, Daphne, but he didn't remember how old she was.

Thankfully Bonnie didn't seem to get upset when he couldn't remember all the details. "Six months old and sitting up." She paused to eat a bite. "Jerry mailed my parents a whole pile of photos. They let me take one." She bent over and pulled one out of her purse. "I warn you, she's a cutie."

Ian took the picture, which turned out to be of all three of them, though the smiling, curly-haired baby in the center dominated the image with her happy smile. "She's adorable," he agreed. "Looks a lot like the photos your Mom has of you and your sister all over the house."

"What can I say, babies in our family are cute," Bonnie chuckled.

Ian just nodded, deciding it was safer not to comment on that. The kids in his family were cute too. He could imagine what their own might look like… if they ever got that far.

"You have that look."

"What look?" Crap, what had he done?

"That contemplative look. Something's on your mind."

Ian sighed. "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about." There was no reason to put it off. "It's important."

Now Bonnie looked puzzled, and slightly concerned. "Okay. What is it?"

 _Here we go._ Ian tried not to be too nervous. "I've been offered a part, a big part, but I wanted to talk to you to see if I should take it or not."

"When do you need my permission to take a part, Ian?" Bonnie smiled, bemused.

"It's _Golden Warrior,_ Bonnie. They want me for Nicholas." The movie was a period drama about a man from Xerxes, who travelled to the Xingese far east to learn the ancient samurai fighting forms as well as bringing with him untold powers.. It was highly fictional, but the legend it was based on existed and was fairly well known. Nicholas was the lead.

Her mouth dropped open. "Well then of course you should take it!" she exclaimed. "I heard the script is by the same writers who did the alchemist movie and _King of Creta._ "

Ian nodded, smiling nervously. "I'm glad you feel that way."

"Then why do you look worried?"

"Because it means filming in the far eastern reaches of Xing on location…. For eight months."

She stilled. "I see. I would think you'd love that. I mean, it's Xing." She gestured at the surroundings. "You love the food. You have cousins there. It sounds like a great opportunity."

Ian tried not to feel frustration. She wasn't getting it, or she was purposefully making him say it. He hoped it was the former. He reached out and placed one hand on the one of hers laying on the table. "It means not seeing you for three-quarters of a year." They hadn't been apart for more than a month or two at a time since they had officially started dating. Sure filming took one or another of them out of town from time to time, and they weren't always on the same projects, but with his turn towards more directing, and her design projects, they spent a lot more time in Central. "I can't just up and leave for eight months without you being okay with it."

"This film could cement your career," Bonnie pointed out.

"I know that. But it doesn't matter if I go away for eight months and lose you."

Her brow knitted in a small frown. "What do you really think would happen in eight months?"

"Some other guy will win you over. You'll discover you're happier alone. You'll get offered a fashion career in Creta and leave the country." Ian shrugged. "I've had several nightmares about it, if you want a catalog."

"No, no, that's enough." Bonnie smiled. "The first is almost an impossibility. The second… we'll go with highly unlikely. The third would have to be an amazingly lucrative offer and isn't likely to happen given their high fashion preferences." She made a face. "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. I admit… it'll be tough, and I'd miss you like crazy. But it would be selfish of me if I asked you to stay just because I thought you might run off with some Xingese model."

Ian blinked. He hadn't even thought of that. "I would never-"

"I know that!" she cut him off, laughing. "Ian, calm down. I think you should absolutely go for it. It's likely to be an even bigger role that playing the Fullmetal Alchemist, if you act it right. Make the studio enough money and you won't have to worry about people not taking you seriously anymore."

"You just like it because it's an action movie," Ian chuckled, the knot in his stomach easing a little. "Lots of fight scenes, next to no romance anywhere in the script."

"I do appreciate that," Bonnie admitted. "And it's not like there aren't phones in Xing, or mailboxes. I'll be right here, waiting for you to get back, and getting a lot more work done because I'm not distracted by this hot guy who keeps showing up and distracting me."

She would wait for him. That was what mattered. "I thought you liked my distractions."

"I do, but that's not always good for my work time," she squeezed his hand. "Or space."

"While I'm gone, you can use my apartment," Ian offered. It had a lot more room than her little place. "You could lay out a lot more at once that way."

"Really?" her eyes lit up. "Thank you!"

 _It's as much your space as mine,_ he wanted to say. They spent at least four of five nights a week in each other's company as long as they were both in town. Usually at his place, due to the aforementioned workshop status of her apartment most of the time. "You know, you could just stay there. I mean, it's got more room, and it's in a better location. I'm not going to need it or my car in Xing. I'll be paying the rent, though if you wanted to cover part of it while I'm gone I wouldn't complain."

"That's sweet, but what about my place?"

Ian hoped his face wasn't flushing. He hadn't planned for this now, or that the conversation would take any turns this direction. "Well, do we really need two places?" he asked, hoping he wasn't about to get smacked. He hadn't said a word about moving in together, or changing the relationship, which had been smooth and comfortable for over a year. "It saves us both money to only pay for the one. Also…. I was sort of hoping that when I got back, you wouldn't move back out."

Her hand loosened, and he felt his stomach lurch. Her green eyes were unreadable. That wasn't a good sign. "Ian…" It was all he could do not to rush, but he knew pushing too hard would be dangerous. He didn't know how much of her current security with their relationship was that it had been so consistent. "What are you suggesting?"

A question, that was better than a refusal. She wanted to know if he was suggesting they be roommates, or move to another level. "I was hoping, that when I get back, you would say yes to marrying me. I, I don't need an answer now," he rushed on, not wanting her to shoot him down before he finished. "I'd just like to think that maybe, by then… I might have a chance. You _are_ the person I want to spend my life with, that I can see building a _forever_ with. I love you, and I'm hoping you feel the same."

She had gone still, like a deer, startled in the forest but unsure if the creature in front of her was friend or predator. Except that there was no fear, or at least, she wasn't showing it. Then her lips spread out in a slow smile, and she chuckled. "So you're… not proposing?"

"Call it, an understanding? A promise? I think there used to be a word for it, once upon a time." Ian felt a little silly, but relieved by the smile. In the worst case scenarios in his head, she dumped hot sauce on his head and ran out crying and never spoke to him again. "I don't have a ring, or a fancy proposal plan, or anything. Not yet, obviously. I mean, if you want to save me the trouble later, I wouldn't say _no,_ but I feel like you deserve more than an awkward offer in a Xingese restaurant before I leave the country for most of a year."

"I'll decide what I do or do not deserve, thank you very much," Bonnie replied. "But I think I can say, with confidence, that should a certain gentleman choose to make a proposal of marriage to me, at an appropriate time and venue, I would be inclined to approve of an official arrangement."

The swap to very formal language caught Ian off guard, until he remembered she had just spent three weeks costuming an early pre-turn-of-the-century period drama. She had just basically told him that yes, when he proposed, she would say yes. Which was as good as a yes, presuming he didn't screw things up between them before he got back. Ian picked up her hand, and kissed it gallantly. "Then I suppose a certain gentleman will have to spend a lot of time giving the manner and presentation very careful thought." And hope that filming in Xing flew by faster than the filming schedule suggested. Now, he already couldn't wait to get home.

 **June 9th, 1987**

Franz tried to pretend he wasn't aware of the disappointment at the breakfast table as everyone got ready for work. Krista looked like she might have been crying. James was quiet and tight-lipped. As a teacher, Krista always left first in the morning. Franz waited until she was gone before he looked pointedly at his son. "What's wrong?"

For a moment James looked like he was going to insist that nothing was wrong. Then he seemed to deflate, and he shook his head, running one hand through his thick, dark hair. "Nothing new. Not really."

Franz had known for a long time that his son and his wife were actively and aggressively trying to get pregnant, and about the health issues that were causing them trouble, but after months of treatments, they still didn't seem any closer to having a child of their own. He could only imagine how frustrating that was, and could see the suffering in their eyes every few weeks. Trisha had been a happy accident, and James had been relatively planned, but it had only taken him and Sara a couple of months to conceive once they started trying. "I'm sorry," he replied, sympathetically.

"Thanks." James focused on his coffee, which was thick and black.

"I hate to pry," Franz pressed, "But you both seem even more dispirited than usual. You didn't say two words to each other during breakfast."

"I put my foot in my mouth," James replied. "I suggested that maybe, we should go ahead and look into adopting instead like we had talked about. I was _trying_ to be supportive and positive. It backfired."

"She thought you were giving up."

"I just don't think it's any better for us to keep beating our heads against a rock. We can keep trying _and_ adopt. It doesn't have to be one or the other." James' frustration started to bubble over, and his tone turned snappish. "A child is a child. She was much more open to the idea when we started."

It must have been while Franz was in the shower, because he certainly hadn't heard any fight. "I'm sure after she calms down if you explain what you meant, things will be fine."

"But they're not fine!" James slapped the table with one hand, making the empty cereal bowls jump and spoons clank. "Damn it, it's like we never talk about anything else anymore. _Everything_ is about timing, and trying, and I just don't know how much more of this we can take, either one of us. It's like an obsession roller-coaster. Every month we get hopeful, and every month they're shattered. We're both tired, and short tempered, and…. I just want to find a solution before we drive each other insane."

"It sounds like you both need a break, and some time to recharge," Franz suggested. "School's out at the end of the week. You should take some time off, and go somewhere, just the two of you for a few days. Do something fun. _Don't_ worry about schedules, or planning, or children. Just enjoy each other's company, before you forget what that feels like."

James seemed to mull it over. "I'll suggest it," he nodded after giving it thought. "I just hope she says yes." He stood, put his dishes in the sink, and headed for the door. "See you after work. I think I'm going to walk."

A good way to burn off frustration; Franz nodded. "See you later. Don't eat a big lunch, I've got a rack of ribs in the refrigerator I was thinking of smoking tonight."

"I'll bring my appetite!" James called back before Franz heard the door close behind him. That last, at least, had a hint of his son's usual enthusiasm. At least, usual until the past year or so. Franz hoped they were able to work things out, even if it meant accepting they might not be able to have a child biologically. He didn't want it to be something like this that drove a rift between James and his wife. He had seen marriages crumble under less, and thrive against more difficult challenges. They were strong, but this was a very, very personal fight. _Our boy needs help, Belle. If you know anyone who can help… please put in a word._


	22. Part 3-2 - Summer '87

**June 13th, 1987**

It took several seconds before Charlie realized that the echoing call of his name wasn't part of a dream, but Shelby, standing over him. He opened his eyes and blinked blearily up at her from the recliner, where he had passed out after Abigail's early morning feeding. He had offered to burp her, which he had, but then when she fell asleep on his chest, he had dozed off. "Hey, angel," he grinned up at her, before his jaw cracked in a yawn. "Need something?"

"Just Abby," Shelby smiled as she reached down and lifted the baby, who was now awake and blinking, up into her arms. "She needs a change, and it's feeding time again."

"Already?" He glanced sheepishly at the clock. It was almost ten in the morning.

"You're lucky you don't have work this Saturday," Shelby chuckled. "Or homework."

School had ended yesterday, and Charlie couldn't have been happier to be free of the classes that ate his days, and homework that ate his family time when he wasn't at work. This was the first morning he had slept in since the winter holidays. Now they had almost three blissful months with so much more time to just be together, and be a family. Abigail was four months old, and each day was a new adventure. She changed and grew so fast, that even when he was terrified, Charlie was enchanted by her tiny smiles, bright eyes, and the soft, curly hair growing in on her head that was currently a light blond, though he expected it would get darker eventually.

"Very lucky," he agreed as he sat up. "Is there anything left of breakfast?"

"There's a stack of pancakes left," his mother commented as she came into the room, dressed to go out. In fact, she looked particularly nice for a Saturday morning.

Charlie grinned at his mother. "You look nice. Going somewhere fashionable?"

"We're meeting Maes and Elena at the country club for lunch," his mother smiled. "Afterwards we're going horseback riding."

Which explained the large bag that could hold a change of clothes. No way his mother was riding in that summer dress. "Have fun," he smiled, perfectly content to spend the day at home with his wife and daughter. As much work as Abby was, he could do a lot of it sitting down. Someday, he might remember what a full night's sleep felt like.

"Enjoy yourselves," he commented, standing to go into the kitchen.

"We will." His father joined them, looking atypically civilian, but equally matched to his wife. "Stay out of trouble while we're gone."

Charlie snorted. "What do you expect me to do? Teach my daughter to play cards?" If it required long-term consciousness or energy, he doubted he'd be capable.

"I didn't have anything specific in mind," Cal replied. "You're the inventive one."

There was no malice in his tone, in fact it was perfectly relaxed and harmless as comments went, but Charlie knew he deserved it. He had secretly orchestrated a marriage and hidden Shelby's pregnancy from them for months. He didn't deserve their trust, but somehow, they had forgiven him. Though he had worked his ass off for the past few months to deserve it. "Don't worry, the most inventive thing I've got is doing laundry and maybe trying a new cheese on a sandwich this afternoon," Charlie assured him, trying not to sound defensive.

"We thought we might take Abby for a walk in the park," Shelby added. Charlie had no idea how she could be up, dressed, and smiling at this hour as the mother of a four-month-old, but Shelby was like that. She had also somehow pulled off a straight-A year despite the chaos. Charlie was actually proud of this year's grades, if only because he hadn't failed anything. His lowest grades were two Cs in his worst subjects. He had his wife to thank for that too.

Charlie's parents smiled. His mother nodded. "It's a beautiful day for a little sunshine and fresh air."

Within a few minutes his parents were gone, and Shelby had settled down to feed Abigail in the chair Charlie had vacated. So Charlie ate breakfast and went upstairs to get dressed. He couldn't very well go walking around town in his pajama shorts.

He didn't have time for a long shower, but he had gotten used to that over the past few months. It was still weird to think of Shelby as his wife, even after six months, though it came easier now that the reality of it had set in, and the shocking newness had worn off. It helped that their families had finally accepted it… well, mostly. Shelby talked to her mother regularly, and saw her on a semi-regular basis, but she still barely talked to her father, even after she had returned to school in time for the spring formal dance, and the last month leading up to finals. He ignored them completely in the halls. Charlie had been told that he had spoken with Shelby on the phone a couple of times, but he refused to even say Charlie's name. Given Shelby's insistence that she wasn't leaving Charlie out of family visits, Tim Cruse had seen Abigail only three times, including the morning after her birth.

Charlie wasn't sure that was a bridge that could be rebuilt. He tried not to antagonize the man, but he didn't give his father-in-law much thought. He was far more concerned with making sure his wife and daughter were happy and taken care of. The only people whose opinions really mattered to him were theirs.

Of course, right now Abigail's needs were simple, and the most critical was something handled almost entirely by Shelby, though since they were teaching Abigail to also drink breast milk from a bottle, he was starting to be able to share in the feedings a little, which was more enjoyable that just diapers and walking her endlessly, and he felt a little more useful. It helped Shelby get more sleep, which made everyone's day better.

Charlie tried not to consider the irony that he'd had less sex with his wife since they got married than most of the year before. School, work, and a newborn tired them both out too much, and then there was the fact they were sharing a room with the baby for now, and it was still weird as heck to try to be romantic when his parents were _home_ and probably fully aware of what might be going on in their house if they vanished into their room for a while.

As much as he appreciated his parents' insistence on helping them get off to a good start, there were moments when he did wish they had their own space, or at least thicker walls and more time alone.

"Are you going to take all day?" Shelby asked as she joined him in their room, holding a much more contented looking baby.

"I'm ready to go, actually," Charlie said as he finished tying his shoe. "Do you need any help with Abby?"

"Just a pair of hands while I finish getting ready and packing a diaper bag," Shelby assured him as she handed her over. "She ate well, and she's been changed."

Charlie took his daughter with the practiced ease of four months of experience. "Great! Maybe she'll take a nap in the stroller."

"I'm hoping she'll stay awake a bit," Shelby commented as she bent down and put on her walking shoes. "She should see lots of fascinating things outside today, and the stimulation is good for her."

Charlie smiled and looked at his daughter. "Are you ready to be stimulated?" Shelby had read every parenting book she could get her hands on while pregnant, and new ones over the past few months, so she seemed to have ideas and developmental information for Abigail all the way up through elementary school. He suspected by the time their girl was one, Shelby would already have formulated the best way to discuss issues during puberty and how to decide what college Abigail should attend.

Abigail blinked her eyes and gurgled, smiling.

"Let's take that as a yes," Shelby suggested, standing. "We should go before it gets too late."

"Too late for what?" Charlie asked as they headed for the stairs.

"Lunch," she commented with a shrug and a smile. "Abby's fine now, but in an hour or so I'm going to be famished!"

Charlie chuckled. "Don't worry. There are plenty of restaurants and food carts near the park. I'm sure we can find you something."

 **June 15th, 1987**

Next time, she wasn't going to be pregnant in the summer, Raina vowed for the umpteen-millionth time since the weather had started warming up over two months ago. Next time, if there was one. If she ever let Urey touch her again. An idle threat, she had to acknowledge, because she instigated intimate relations at least as often as he did, but it made her feel better to gripe, especially within a couple of weeks of her due date, with ankles and feet that didn't fit any shoes except her loosest, floppiest sandals, and an inability to get up off the couch in the living room without assistance or a lot of struggling, which was problematic if she wanted to get up to get a drink, or food, or use the restroom.

She was eternally grateful that Urey had taken Yurian over to Reichart and Deanna's to play for the day, now that school was out. Trying to keep up with the energetic boy had become nearly impossible. Raina had barely made it through the end of the school year with enough energy and mobility to teach. She had spent most of the rest of the year passing out from the time she got home until Urey woke her for dinner, then going to bed as soon as she finished any critical grading. Her wardrobe had barely made it either, given most of her nice work-appropriate maternity wear was too warm or too tight by early June. Neither family had a history of twins, and they had been assured repeatedly this was just one baby. They did both have a history of large babies.

The front door creaked a little as it opened, and Raina felt a surge of relief as Urey came through the door. Yurian wasn't with him. "Thank goodness!"

Urey paused at the unconventional welcome, looked at her, sitting on the couch with her feet up, and seemed to comprehend the issue at once. She wanted to hurt him a little when his lips twitched in amusement. "Stuck?" he asked simply.

"Do I look mobile?" she quipped back, gesturing at herself with one hand.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Easy now." He came over and put one arm under her back and across her shoulders before helping her shift sideways enough to get her feet back down off the ottoman, and onto her feet. "How long have you been trying to get up?"

"Fifteen minutes," she admitted as the sudden movement sent the baby thumping. She put both hands on her belly. "I'll be right back." Without waiting for a quip or comment, she hurried into the bathroom as fast as she could manage, which was a rather undignified shuffle.

By the time she was able to return to the main part of the house, Urey was in the kitchen. "What would you like for dinner?" he asked. "We've got steak, pasta, leftover vegetable casserole, or I could pick up take-out when I go to get Yurian if that's not enough."

"Not enough?" Raina stared at him for a moment.

Urey smiled again, though this one was a sympathetic and rueful little twist of the mouth. "Raina, my love, if I don't make enough, Yurian and I are both still going to be hungry tonight. I mean, I appreciate that you clearing my plate is the best diet I've ever had, but I'd like to eat all my own plate sometime."

She wanted to be angry, but it was true, and from what she had been told, she would still be starving after she had the baby, because feeding a newborn required even more food than just carrying one. She gave a heavy, defeated sigh. "If you get Aerugean, get me a double order of their pork street tacos."

Urey kissed her, pulling her close in a gentle, slightly awkward position. "Anything you wish."

"Anything?" she asked skeptically.

"Anything."

"I want to be skinny again, and not hungry every minute of every day. I want to be able to look at food and _not_ eat it."

"Anything within my power," Urey amended. "It's just a few more days, and then the baby will be here, and when you feel up to it, we can start doing things again. We can take walks, and work in the garden. We can work back up to running if you want. Or if you'd rather join your friends from work I can watch the kids."

Several of the other teachers exercised together on a regular basis, a group thing they had started earlier that year, right before Raina had discovered she was pregnant. While she had gone with them and done what she could for a bit, she had been too tired and limited to do some of what they were doing, and had finally had to stop or not get her work done before she fell asleep at night. Urey's offer was touching, and just demonstrated the caring heart that she loved. "I will probably take you up on that," she replied. It would be necessary, she was sure, for her sanity as much as anything. She appreciated that he offered solutions rather than platitudes.

Urey began to rub his hand into the small of her back where the muscles were particularly tight, and she leaned against him. "Better?" he asked.

"Yes." She sighed. "A little."

"Good." He held her that way another minute, until she straightened up, regretting that there wasn't time for a full body massage before dinner. "When is your uncle getting into town tomorrow?" she asked. Urey's Uncle Ethan was coming, at Urey's insistence, to be there in case they needed a medically trained alchemist during delivery. Raina thought it wasn't necessary, but after Urey's first wife had died in childbirth, _despite_ having Ethan there trying to save her, she couldn't dismiss Urey's fears, and if it made him feel better she hadn't been about to argue. Besides, it offered her a little comfort to know they had the absolute best treatment and assistance available should unexpected complications come up. Her parents would be arriving in a couple of days but, thankfully, had offered to stay in Resembool's charming, historical bed and breakfast so their little house wasn't too crowded. Ethan was staying at Edward and Winry's.

"The nine o'clock train," Urey replied. "Grandpa will be picking him up at the station. We're invited over to their place for a big family dinner tomorrow night. That is, if you feel up to it."

"I don't have to walk do I?" If so, that answer was a big fat no.

"Of course not. Grandpa offered to give us a ride too. No one is going to make you walk several miles." Urey shook his head. "Though I do need to get walking if I'm going to pick up Yurian and tacos. Is there anything else you need while I'm out, and are you going to be okay while I'm gone? You're not going to get stuck on the couch again are you?"

Relieved, Raina stepped back and nodded. Aside from the fact she was supposed to be taking it easy and getting as much rest as possible, she didn't think she could have made it that far. "Yes, a family dinner sounds wonderful. Anything I don't have to cook sounds wonderful these days, and no, I'm not going to get stuck on the couch again." If she wanted to sit down, she would choose a chair that wasn't so deep, and wouldn't make the mistake of trying to put her feet up without a way to get down again.

"Good." He kissed her again briefly. "Then I'll be home again in an hour. You take it easy, and don't have the baby without me okay?"

His tone was teasing, but she could see the hint of worry that was behind his eyes all the time these days. The closer they got, the more it was there. "No fear of that," she assured him with a sigh. "We're all buttoned up tight still, you know that."

"I do. All right. I'm going." He hesitated one more time, then headed for the door.

When he was gone, Raina considered her options, and decided that the best thing to do was _not_ to sit back down on the couch, but to get a glass of water, settle into the recliner, and check the television monthly schedule to see if there was anything child friendly on tonight that they could watch as a family while they ate; something feel-good and relaxing that would put them all at ease.

At least, that was the plan. She had just gotten to the children's listings when both of the kittens leapt up onto the chair and squeezed up in between her and the magazine, despite the fact it had them climbing on her belly.

"Will you two stop that!" she tried to shoo them off, but failed several times, before they finally settled on either side of her, purring loudly. She had just gotten almost comfortable, when the baby started thumping. Raina hoped Urey hurried home with dinner and Yurian. She also hoped that things starting moving faster soon. She was looking forward to being able to hold her baby in her arms, and also to hand the new baby off to Urey from time to time!

 **June 16th, 1987**

It was always nice to be in Resembool for a visit, though Ethan was beginning to think that most of his out-of-town trips were related to the birth of babies in the family, which made them a lot like work. He had already managed to get his travel expenses deducted regarding taxes due to that. He was honestly not expecting to have much to do on this trip, given by all reports Raina was as healthy as a pregnant woman could be, with no extenuating health issues, and the baby was growing well and showing all signs of being perfectly healthy.

He had come because Urey wanted him there. After last time, he was rather touched that Urey wanted him here at all. After all, Cayla was one of the very few patients that Ethan had ever lost, especially in childbirth. She had been too sick before, and during, and too weak. She should never have been pregnant. Still, he had given everything he could to keep her alive, and it had not been enough. The loss of a family member, despite his prodigious skills, had hurt on multiple levels. He had expected Urey to blame it for him long past the stage where he had moved beyond his initial grief.

Yet Urey wanted him here, and Ethan had been determined to make the trip. It wouldn't be as long as last year's trip to visit Lily and Randy when she gave birth to the twins. In fact, he had come down from East City to be here, since he, Lia, and Aeddan had started the trip in East City to be there for Jace and Lexi's first birthday. Now they were all in Resembool, staying at his parents' house.

"It's a good thing you have a flexible schedule in the summer," his mother commented to Lia as they all sat around the living room after dinner.

"Being a teacher does have some advantages," she agreed, smiling. "It's also easier when Aeddan's out of school."

The sixteen-year-old nodded from his spot on the floor, since the chairs and couches were mostly taken. "This is way more fun than hanging out around the house all summer."

"Spoken like a true bachelor," Ethan quipped, grinning at his youngest. Aeddan, who loved his soccer and his free time and his books more than much of anything else, had been quite happy not to settle down to one steady girl. He went on dates, but generally socially, or in groups, and hadn't set his heart on a girl yet. Frankly, Ethan was just fine with that. Eamon and his girlfriend were still together, but he hadn't heard anything about proposals on that end. Though he might when they all got home. Eamon had stayed in Creta to spend time with his friends first before coming home, especially since the family had all gone out of town without him, again.

Aeddan shrugged, and leaned back against Mal. The large white dog thumped his tail, but otherwise didn't move.

"Well, we're glad you're here," Raina smiled at all of them. She seemed far calmer than Urey did about this, though Ethan couldn't imagine that anyone was surprised by that fact.

"Not that we need a reason to visit, but this is a particularly good one," Lia beamed.

"Well, I'm not giving birth just to have my brother visit," Aldon quipped, grinning at Ethan from the other side of the coffee table, where he and Cassie were cuddled on the loveseat.

"I'd be very disturbed if you did," Ethan retorted. "Though I did wonder if you'd put on weight since my last visit." He laughed and ducked as Aldon slung a pillow at his head.

"Ah, my loving sons, such devoted brothers." Winry rolled her eyes. "No horsing around with my good cushions."

"Some things never change," Ed agreed.

Ethan and Aldon were laughing too hard to respond.

 **June 17th, 1987**

Sappy goodbyes in train stations were for movies, not real life, yet Ian found himself wishing he had a particularly great romantic line to use as he kissed Bonnie passionately on the platform, not caring who might be watching, or what might be in the news in the next two days. It wasn't like the world didn't know-at least the people who cared- that he and Bonnie had been dating for over a year. There was nothing they could say other than speculate that the relationship was hot and going strong, which it was, so he didn't care. For once, something they reported might actually be true.

The train had three cars reserved just for the cast and crew of the movie, so most everyone on the platform at that early hour worked for Central Vision Studios anyway, and already knew.

"Damn it, I miss you already," he whispered in her ear as he hugged her close against him.

"That's supposed to be my line," Bonnie replied flippantly, though there were unshed tears in her eyes when they both straightened and he could see her beautiful face.

"Everyone says I'm always stealing the spotlight." He smiled. "I'll call anytime I can find a phone on the trip, and when we get there, with a number so you'll know how to reach me, and a mailing address." Eight months of filming, assuming there were no delays. It seemed like an eternity stretched out before him.

"Good, because I plan to write you long, babbled, overly detailed letters full of gossip, frustration, fabric-talk, and maybe some sappy poetry." Bonnie smiled back.

"You write sappy poetry?"

"Well I didn't say it would be _my_ poetry."

He chuckled, and hugged her one more time. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She kissed his lips again, then his cheek. "I'll be waiting, so don't you dare disappoint me."

"I'll work my hardest, and be the most boring non-party boy you ever saw." Ian crossed his heart with one finger.

Bonnie shook her head, but her expression was amused. "Go cement your stardom."

"It won't mean anything without you," he promised. Then the train whistle blew, and it was time to go. His trunk was already on the train.

She waved as she stepped away. "I'm counting on it."

 **June 21st, 1987**

The plan had been to have the baby at the Resembool regional hospital. The baby, it seemed, had other plans, Urey thought as he awoke in the middle of the night to thunder, lighting, driving rain, and Raina's right hand on his chest, clutching the hair in the midst of a contraction.

"Sorry," Raina gasped after a moment, and her grip loosened. "That was… unexpected."

"You're telling me." He reached up and rubbed his chest with his right hand, his heart starting to beat faster. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "That was _not_ a practice contraction."

Of course it wasn't. Urey swallowed. _Stay calm. Stay calm. This is entirely different._ He had to keep it together for her. Especially at the moment. The only other person in the house was Yurian. Raina's parents were asleep in the Bed and Breakfast. Uncle Ethan was still over at Grandpa and Grandma's. With the dumping rain getting the car here and then to the hospital could be treacherous. He took a calming breath. "Was that the only one?"

Raina shook her head. "No, they've been going on for a couple of hours," she admitted. "Just not that strong. I didn't want to wake you unless it was necessary."

"I'd call this necessary." He sat up. "I'll call Grandpa's." Urey just hoped they could get her to the hospital.

Grandpa Ed picked up the phone with a bleary "Hello? If this isn't Urey I'm going to transmute you into a goldfish."

Despite himself, Urey smiled a little. "It's me, Grandpa. We need the car, and Uncle Ethan. Raina's in labor."

There was a pause, and outside lighting split the sky, though all Urey could see was the sheets of rain streaming down the windows. "Ethan and I will be over as soon as we can," Ed finally replied, sounding more awake. "Though it may take a while. The roads are going to be muck in this."

"I understand." Urey nodded, even though no one could see him. "What should I do?"

A moment later he heard the phone being handed over, and Uncle Ethan's voice came across the line. "Count minutes between contractions and keep her comfortable. How is she?"

"Talking, uncomfortable, but not in any kind of agonizing pain."

"Then everything's fine. We'll see you in a bit."

When Urey hung up the phone, he debated for several seconds, then decided not to wake Raina's parents yet. It was two in the morning according to the clock on the living room wall, and if they couldn't get here, it wouldn't do them any good to be awoken in the middle of the night anyway.

Raina was sitting up on the edge of the bed when he returned, one hand resting on her belly, her expression very inwardly focused.

"Everything all right?" he asked, stuffing down his fear. _It's all okay. It's all okay._

She looked up at him, and gave a small smile. "Yes, it's fine. Had another two while you were gone. They're about three minutes apart. Seems like someone's finally in a hurry."

"Well Grandpa and Uncle Ethan are on their way as quickly as they can get here," Urey assured her, sitting down next to her on the bed. "They aren't sure if we'll be able to get to the hospital or not."

While that terrified him, Raina did not seem too bothered. She just nodded. "The storm is pretty bad. I wouldn't want to be out in it. Too bad Doctor Gaines may miss this."

"Grandpa will go for her and your parents as soon as the weather lightens up a little," Urey promised. While he was aware that, in an absolute worst scenario, his Uncle could do nearly anything, he would rather have both doctors. If it came to surgery, they would need Doctor Gaines.

"It'll be fine." Raina nodded, sounding for all the world like Urey was the one in labor as calm as she was at the moment.

Urey felt a swell of pride. "I'm sure it will. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Maybe a glass of water." Raina nodded thoughtfully. "And a hand up. I'd like to walk for a little while. It's less painful to be upright at the moment."

Urey helped her to her feet, then left her walking as he went to get a glass of water. He tried to ignore the thunder and lightning outside the windows, and he hoped Yurian slept through the night. Mostly, he just hoped his grandfather didn't have trouble driving through the stormy night to get there.

* * *

Edward opted to let Ethan drive. Not because he was afraid to drive in bad weather, but because he had to admit that his son had better night vision than he did, and slightly faster reflexes, which meant he was the better choice in tricky weather on dark, muddy roads. It didn't help that his beautiful little sports car wasn't meant for anything resembling off-roading.

"Why the hell don't you buy a truck?" Ethan asked as they made their way down the thankfully relatively straight and level road towards Urey and Raina's little house near town.

"And look like a backwoods country bumpkin?" Ed laughed. "Not in a hundred years."

"Well you're getting there."

"Fine, two-hundred," Ed countered. He couldn't see his son's face clearly. Driving or not, both sets of eyes were riveted to the road. It would be just their luck for a loose panicked cow or sheep to come flying in front of them in the middle of the night.

Thankfully, no such thing happened, and they arrived at the house in less than half an hour. Not bad for a drive that normally only took ten minutes. On city roads it would have taken three.

There were lights on in the bedroom and living room that Ed could see from the windows as he grabbed an umbrella and braced himself for the dash to the door. Even as close as they pulled up, he and Ethan were both damp when they hit the porch.

Ed's fist had barely tapped the door when it opened, and Urey, bright-eyed and tense, let them in.

Ethan took off his coat and hung it up, then picked his bag back up. "How's she doing?" he asked without preamble.

"Contractions are just under three minutes apart," Urey replied, leading them towards the bedroom. "Her water broke just a couple of minutes after I called."

Ethan nodded. "Good. Let's have a look then."

At the door, Urey turned to Ed, who stopped walking. "Grandpa, if Yurian wakes up, distract him."

Ed nodded. He had no purpose in the delivery room anyway. "I'll handle him," he promised. "And I'll put on a pot of coffee." For himself, awake in the middle of the night; for

Ethan, and for Urey. He had a feeling they would all need it before dawn. "If the rain let's up, I'll run into town for the doctor and Raina's folks."

"Thanks, grandpa." Then the door closed, and Edward was left to his own devices.

* * *

This was nothing like the last time he had helped a child of Urey's into the world, for which Ethan was imminently grateful. Unlike Cayla, Raina had been born with a very good body for bearing children. To Ethan, that meant wide, flexible hips that allowed the baby to fit out properly. In this case, he was particularly glad, because from his estimates this was not going to be a small newborn.

Given she had been nowhere close to going into labor a couple of days ago, Ethan was a little surprised at how quickly she was progressing, especially for a first-time delivery, but it wasn't the first time he'd seen a labor move this fast, and it wouldn't be the last. By dawn, Raina was ready to push, and by seven in the morning, the baby was out: a very solid, nine-pound baby girl, with long legs, and a fluff of hair on her head that, as it dried, looked like it was—for the moment at least—light blond.

It was only when he went into the bathroom to wash his hands that Ethan became aware of the sound of voices outside the bedroom. Leaving Urey with Raina and the baby, he moved past the bathroom to find a small army tromping through the front door. His father had picked up Raina's parents, as promised, and Doctor Gaines. Lia was there, doing a puzzle on the dining room table with Yurian. Ethan had no idea when his wife had arrived, but he wasn't going to complain.

Everyone stared at him expectantly, obviously desperate for news. Ethan smiled. "Everyone is doing great," he told them simply. "The baby's here. It's a girl." Then he escorted Doctor Gaines into the room to look at her patients.

* * *

Urey couldn't stop shaking. He didn't think it was noticeable really, but he felt like he was vibrating on the inside. The surreal sense of the entire experience hadn't quite worn off. Raina had given birth to a beautiful, healthy girl, and both mother and baby were alive and well. _This_ was the joy of childbirth that everyone talked about. This was the miracle he hadn't been able to appreciate or enjoy at Yurian's birth.

Now they were a family of four, and Yurian had a baby sister, Brynne. It was a name Raina had been fond of, and it was pretty so Urey had simply agreed. All he had cared about was that everyone came through the experience alive. Names were of secondary importance, and he trusted Raina's taste.

Once everyone was cleaned up, and Raina was ready, they let everyone in from the other room. Raina's parents followed on the heels of a very eager Yurian, who bounced into the room and ran up to the bed. "Oh wow! Is that my sister? She's so small. What's her name?"

Raina smiled. "Her name is Brynne."

"Hi, Brynne." Yurian glanced up and down from parents to baby. "Can I touch her?"

Urey watched, his heart full as Raina showed Yurian how to gently stroke his baby sister's cheek. After eight years, Yurian was no longer an only child, and he seemed delighted, which was as it should be.

"She's darling!" Magnolia Summers gasped in delight. "What a beautiful little thing."

Raina chuckled. "And here I thought she was big!"

"You fed her well," Urey assured her with a chuckle as he kissed her cheek, then moved out of the way enough for Magnolia and Percival could get up close enough to the bed to hug their daughter and admire their first biological grandchild. They had always treated Yurian as if he were, which Urey appreciated, but this was Raina's first, and he knew that made a difference, especially to mothers.

He found himself standing next to Doctor Gaines. Uncle Ethan seemed to have vanished.

Gaines smiled at him. "Nice work," she said.

"I didn't do anything," Urey shook his head. "Raina did all the real work."

"Given your past, I'd say you did a lot," Gaines replied. "You held together well, and you were able to help and support your wife. That's all anyone can ask in a situation like this one."

"I expected it to be a lot worse," Urey admitted. He was sure he would have cracked if there had been any complications whatsoever, but even Uncle Ethan had called it one of the easiest, most textbook deliveries he had ever done as a physician.

Gaines gave him a long look. "You should get a drink for yourself, and eat something. You look like you're going to crash here in a few minutes."

Urey didn't want to leave, but he also didn't want to argue with the physician. He _was_ still feeling wobbly and jittery at the same time. So he left the room while he couldn't get back to the bed anyway, and joined the group in the kitchen and dining area, who were sitting around drinking his coffee and eating his pancake mix, which Aunt Lia had turned into a large steaming pile of flapjacks.

He opened his mouth to facetiously object to someone cooking in his kitchen without asking, but the violent and audible grumbling of his stomach interrupted before he could speak. Urey smiled sheepishly. "Is there some for me?"

Lia chuckled. "Who did you think they were for?"

"Me of course." Grandpa Ed was sitting at the table, working his way through his own stack. "Though I left some just for you."

Urey sat down and his aunt put a plate down in front of him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. What would you like to drink?"

"Coffee."

"There's not enough coffee to make up for losing sleep due to child birth." Urey's father grinned as he and Mom joined them.

"You would know. Though I think Art's got us all beat." Urey poured syrup so that it ran thickly down the stack.

Cassie nodded. "I take it you're not planning to compete with your brother on that front."

"No. Definitely not." Then he took a bite of food. He didn't want that many children, and he was fairly certain that Raina would never put up with being pregnant that many times. Their family plans did not include a swarm. After he swallowed he looked at his parents. "Don't you want to see the baby?"

"Oh, we will," his mother assured him. "But Magnolia and Percival deserve to spend as much time with Raina as they want. They live much farther away than we do. We'll get to cuddle her all the time."

His groggy mind conceded the point. "If you can pry her out of my arms," he grinned.

His father laughed. "Of course, she's yours. That's just how it should be."

* * *

 _Author's Note 7/21/2017: Fin! I hope you've all enjoyed the plotlines covered in this story. They're setting up for some more, big adventures and drama to come. :)_


End file.
